


A Part of the Main

by Winnett



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alpha!Bilbo, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bottom!Bilbo, Bottom!Thorin, Cultural Differences, Hobbit retelling, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega!Dori, Omega!Thorin, Omegaverse, Polyamory, Romance, Scent Marking, Scenting, Self-Lubrication, Shapeshifter!Bilbo, Shapeshifting, Smut, Switching, Tails, Threesome - M/M/M, Top!Bilbo, Top!Thorin, Transformation, alpha transformation, bottom!Dori, courting, heat/rut cycles, peacocking, slick
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:34:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 81,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnett/pseuds/Winnett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Dwarves descended upon Bag End, Bilbo didn't immediately toss them all out because he could scent a compatible Omega within the group, one Bilbo would claim as his own.</p><p>(Hobbit retelling (with enough changes it's not the same old same old) with awesome Bilbo doing anything he can to win his Omegas.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my response to the Alpha/Omega verse type story. I got a little tired of weak Omegas... so, I wrote kick!ass Omegas. Enjoy!
> 
> betaed by emansil

Bilbo caught a whiff of the scent, little snatches, tickling his nose and spinning his senses, buried under the scent of sweat and dirt and _Dwarf_ , all through the night. The Dwarves had descended upon his home, pushy and flamboyant and so heavily armed, that Bilbo was a bit out of his element, his Baggins side pushed to heightened elevations of agitation with each passing offense. Mud on his mother's glory box. Eating his dinner without so much as a thank you. Treating him like a concierge. Then attacking his larder.

However, the Took in him snatched the scent from the air, tasting it on the back of his throat. Savoring it. Musky oak with a hint of fire and cinnamon that simultaneously comforted Bilbo and scent curls of arousal deep into his belly. It played with a trace of citrus. Lime maybe, or orange. Something exotic. 

One of these Dwarves was an Omega. And not just any Omega. The scent tapped into his Alpha instincts and Bilbo knew this Omega, this unknown Dwarf, was compatible. Compatible enough that Bilbo whiffed him—a Dwarf even—without effort, the Omega's flavor seeping into his very pores. 

But which one could it be? 

While their names had been bandied about, each easily slipping from Bilbo's flustered mind, he focused on the Dwarves as they gathered around his dinner table, trying to suss out which status belong to which Dwarf. It wasn't that easy for Hobbits to whiff other races, unless an Omega was in heat or an Alpha in rut and the air was pungent with their pheromonal leavings. On a typical day, it was all very tidy and personal, not something one went about announcing. Of course, Bilbo knew the status of everyone in Hobbiton, because the community was as tight as Cousin Lobelia's coin purse. It was just a prim fact that one didn't typically release their scent unless there were intentions: enticing a mate, warning off a rival, comforting or calming someone distressed. 

To shine the light of truth on the issue, Bilbo had little idea about how Dwarves went about the whole process, and to be honest with himself, he'd had no previous idea that Dwarves even had the three statuses. The entire thing was a bit disarming. And so, due to this unexpected onslaught to his senses, Bilbo wasn't the best host when the horde of tall, burly Dwarves clamored into his smial. 

_Thirteen_ tall, burley Dwarves to be exact.

First, there was the king, Thorin Oakenshield, who'd greeted Bilbo with an enigmatic 'Looks more like a grocer than a burglar,' and used a tone that suggested there was something _wrong_ with being a grocer. In fact, Bilbo was quite proud of his tomato crop this year and he was certain to win the Big Tom award and beat out old Tofur Toolin from Buckland, not that he would boast the fact, of course. Bilbo got no scent from him. Probably an Alpha, so Bilbo dismissed him to look to Thorin's right.

The older Dwarf with a mighty beard and sharp, yet kind, eyes nodded at something the king had said. His hair was gray, probably beyond emitting any scent at all. Next to him were the twins… brothers? Young, probably too young to even present their statuses. There was one other young one, currently ensconced between two other Dwarves. Bilbo reasoned that, by the attendance of these stalwart guards, this young one, strawberry blond with two long braids framing his face, must be an Omega. Bilbo studied him. He'd have to get closer to whiff the young Dwarf, see if he was the compatible Omega veiled within this group. Bilbo scrubbed his damp palms against his dressing gown.

He continued to scan the others as they ate and talked amongst themselves, or rather over each other, hands waving through the air, eyebrows expressing heated disagreement or amused fondness. Bilbo realized, with the majority of their mouths hidden by hair, the eyebrows of a Dwarf were the true windows of emotion. 

Half a ham flew through the air and the bald Dwarf snatched it up like a ball of crumbled paper, and tore into it with his teeth. Hmm, probably not an Omega.

Then his gazed rested on the strange Dwarf with the ax imbedded in his head. He'd not spoken to Bilbo yet, and seemed unable to even speak Westron at all. As Bilbo studied him, the Dwarf looked up. Bilbo took a step back. This Dwarf, the one with the obvious brain injury, was exuding Alpha scent. Bilbo hadn't caught it earlier, Dwarf scents being too foreign to a Hobbit to immediately read, but it was unmistakable now. Perhaps he was filling the air with his scent to ward Bilbo off of the Omegas in the group. Well, Bilbo wasn't interested in all of the Omegas, no matter how many there were, just one. However, Bilbo understood that he would have to play nice with the resident dwarven Alpha if he was going to get anywhere with an Omega under his care.

So, with that in mind, Bilbo went to his kitchen, determined to go about this formally and prove to this Alpha that he could provide for any Omega in the Company. He gathered a variety of cookies, some of his apple cinnamon muffins, and an orange scone, and arranged them on one of his mother's best plates with the cherry blossom pattern. Ooh, he hoped the plate would meet no harm. He returned to the dining table, pushed his way around the backs of the seated Dwarves with muttered 'excuse me's and 'pardon's until he was behind the ax-headed Alpha. He set a doily down on the table—off-white lace his great grandmother Baggins had crocheted—then the plate on the doily before the Dwarf with a bow. "Please, enjoy," Bilbo said.

The Dwarf's eyebrows lifted. Aah, so he was curious. Bilbo smiled. The Dwarf sniffed, whiffing the air—obviously too, and that was just not done in polite society!—and his already elevated eyebrows shot up his forehead. Did he whiff Bilbo as an Alpha so quickly? Bilbo struggled against a scowl. _He_ was a well-mannered Hobbit and wasn't going about scenting the air like a young one on the cusp of presenting! Goodness gracious. 

The Dwarf muttered something in his guttural, growly language and the table erupted in more of that language. Bilbo huffed. "If you do not mind, it is very rude for you to hold whole conversations in a language your host does not understand."

The two brothers exchanged a look, some silent communication relayed between them from slight muscle twitches, head tilts and a delicate waggle of shoulders. "He was just thanking you, Mr. Boggins. For the treats," explained the blond Dwarf, his smile near to a smirk as Bilbo could tell.

"Yeah, and why don't we get any treats!" said the dark haired one, obviously insulted. 

The blond elbowed the other, who shut his mouth.

Bilbo knew a half truth or a cultured lie when he heard one, but decided not to push it. "It's Baggins, not Boggins." He turned away to begin work on the mounds of dishes and prepare after dinner tea. He'd serve lapsang; the smoky aroma fit the Dwarves somehow.

~~~

Tea and coffee, wine for Gandalf and beer for a few, topped off the final meal and while Bilbo was handing out the beverages, he surreptitiously whiffed the air again, desperate to find the cinnamon and orange. To his ever mounting frustration, he could only identify the one Alpha.

Gandalf and Thorin had spread out a large parchment over the dining table, which now snared the attention of all. Bilbo peeked around the shoulder of a very large Dwarf seated before him and caught the drawing of a most artfully illuminated creation.

"What beautiful drawing," he said to Gandalf, who seemed to be in ownership of the illuminated map. "Look at the lines used to design the mountain. That's a Seed Pen stroke if ever I've seen one. And the dragon above. Exquisite work! Where did you get this, Gandalf?"

"From my grandfather," Thorin said. The king's eyes caressed the parchment and each line sketched on surface of it.

"Oh, well the map certainly is a pristine specimen," Bilbo said, gentling his tone for the surely king that had softened for this familial artifact. "I don't recognize the writing, but look at this large empty space." He circled his finger over a blank section of map. "I would not be surprised if someone hid some writing there."

Gandalf leaned back. "Oh, you think so, do you Bilbo?"

"What does he mean?" the young potential Omega Dwarf asked, leaning forward to get a better view. His name was Ori. Shy and quiet, but with a healthy curiosity. Bilbo liked him immediately. "Hidden writing?"

Bilbo addressed Ori, eager to share his love of scholarship. "Writing can be hidden. Invisible." He pulled back his ears as he slipped into lecture more. "It can be done as mundanely as to use lemon juice as the ink, then you pass the paper over a candle and the writing appears due to the heat." He hooked his thumbs into his dressing gown lapels, aware that all attention had now settled upon him. "And then there is magical writing. Dwarves and Elves are the experts there. They write the words during a certain time of day or month, or they write them when a star is in the correct position and only when that star has returned to that location will the writing be revealed. I’m sure there are other methods, but those are the ones I'm aware of."

Ori's face was a vision of rapture. "Mr. Baggins, do you think that there is such writing on Thorin's map?" Ori asked. Bilbo preened a little, knowing the Omega was watching him.

"Ori, quit bothering Mr. Baggins," said the older of the two protectors. The one with intricately tidy hair and full cheeks when he smiled, unlike the other protector, whose three spikes seemed to portray some rebellious stage. 

"Oh, it's no bother at all," Bilbo said. "Do you enjoy literature and the literary arts, Ori?" Bilbo's eagerness pranced around him like a young colt, but he kept his distance from the younger Dwarf. He had no wish to draw down the wrath of his two guardians, or the Alpha. 

"Yes!" Ori said, eyes as bright as a fauntling's at Yule. "I am an apprentice scribe and I will be chronicling our journey. See?" He pulled out a large book and flipped through some of the early pages where the scholar had filled the sheets with the runic dwarven writing and beautiful pictures of the Company. There was even a page with two quick sketches, one of Gandalf and the other of Bilbo in his cotton dressing gown. Oh dear. Bilbo really should go dress himself. What an impression he must be making. 

Well, that pony had already lost his shoe.

"This is quite good. If you'd like, I'd love to show you my library." Bilbo looked to the other two Dwarves who watched but said nothing as the younger agreed. He took that as tacit permission, and guided Ori away from the table and map as the others watched. 

"Is that really true about the writing?" one of them asked, probably trying to be quiet while questioning Bilbo's knowledge behind his back, but failing abominably. "That it could only appear at specific times."

"Bilbo is quite the scholar, so I would listen—" And they were too far away for anymore of Gandalf's quiet words to reach them.

"Wow, Mr. Baggins." Ori looked around Bilbo's study in bright-eyed joy. "You've so many books! May I?"

Bilbo tried to hide his delight, reining his smile from something untamable to a bit of a gentlehobbitly grin. "Certainly." Really it wasn't as many books as the Old Took had in the Great Smial, but he was proud of his collection. 

He watched Ori go over his bookcases, his long, ink-stained fingers spidering over each spine, tracing embossed letters over leather covers, a careful yet loving gesture that told of a Dwarf who belonged in civilization to expand his mind, not marching about in the wilds. Bilbo sidled closer to the Dwarf, breathing in. Oh, the scandal if anyone found out!

"Mister Baggins?" Ori turned to face Bilbo, a book cradled in his hand. Bilbo shuffled back, a placid, attentive expression readied for Ori.

"Oh, please, just Bilbo, Mister Ori. I'm not much on formality with those I've just emptied my pantry for."

Ori blushed. It was cute and Bilbo leaned forward to see if he could catch that scent, but he caught nothing off this Dwarf. Beta maybe? "Oh, well, then, please, just Ori. But I wanted to ask. Did you write this?"

Bilbo took the book from him. _History of the East Farthing_ by BB. "Why, yes. Mainly oral histories from the Hobbits in that area. And these too." Bilbo pointed to two shelves in one book case. "All mine." He puffed out his chest, an involuntary reaction to the praise, then inwardly scolded himself. Was he going to start peacocking now? Like an Alpha in rut? Ori probably wasn't even an Omega. He was being a fool. A dafted fool.

"Ori?" came a voice from just outside the study.

"Dori!" Ori said with delight. "Come here. Look at all these books. And Bilbo has written some too. All of these are his." Ori bounced on the balls of his feet, his mittened hands fluttering through the air to show off Bilbo's work, more eager than Bilbo himself. Dori stared at Bilbo, his slate-blue eyes sizing up Bilbo, who tried to offer his most gentlehobbitly smile to the finely coiffed Dwarf.

Then the scrutiny was snipped away, like cutting the ribbon around the Party Tree for the spring celebration with the giant pair of sheers kept specifically for the occasion. One moment, intensity, the next, warm joviality. 

"Oh, that is quite impressive, Mister Baggins," Dori said with honest appreciation, his eyes crinkling with his smile.

Bilbo bowed slightly. "Oh, thank you, Mister Dori. Writing and recording cultural and natural history of the area has been a great interest of mine for many years. The Hobbits of the Shire—which is quite an expansive area, it can take you days to walk across—have a very rich history. On another note, might I ask, are you two brothers?"

Ori nodded, eyes wide and smile ever-present. "Yes, and Nori is our brother as well, between us in age."

Bilbo was happy he'd gotten it right. "I was wondering... because of the names."

"It is often the way of Dwarves to name children similarly," Dori said. "So, the young princes Fili and Kili are brothers, and so are Bofur and Bombur, Oin and Gloin, and Balin and Dwalin. Bifur is Bofur and Bombur's cousin. Thorin is Fili and Kili's uncle." Dori finished with a smile and something about it lit up the room. A subtle scent tickled his senses, and Bilbo felt dizzy, his heart beating a tad erratically. Ori looked over at his brother, eyes wide, eyebrows raised. Was that eyebrow dance a sign of shock? 

Bilbo blinked, trying to still the spin. "So many of you are family. Is that typical too? For family to travel together?"

"Well, Mister Baggins--"

"Please, just Bilbo."

Dori's smile seemed to widen, full cheeks and bright teeth, and he nodded in acquiescence. Bilbo gave his head a little shake to clear it. "Of course, and please, call me Dori." Dori leaned forward to share his gossip. "You see, Thorin had sent out a call to many Dwarves to join in on this quest and only a few responded." Dori's bright pleasure died, allowing Bilbo to clear his head and assess his own reaction. _Dori_ was an Omega, not Ori. Bilbo couldn’t whiff him like he could a Hobbit, but he certainly reacted to something the Dwarf had done. Had he just scented the air, filling the room with his pheromones? Bilbo felt giddy. Was Dori the origin of that cinnamon and oak, smoke and oranges? The Dwarf settled a stern look on Ori. "I tried to talk my little brother out of the quest, but…" He shrugged. "Family ties are very strong in Dwarves."

Bilbo watched the two brothers and smiled to himself. "It would appear so." 

Dori nodded appreciatively to Bilbo. "I also wanted to thank you for the tea," he said. "It was an exquisite flavor. Something I'd never had before."

Dori's praise sent a worm of pleasure through Bilbo's belly. He prayed to Yavanna the heat he felt on his cheeks was simple pride and not the forewarning of flashes of color announcing his excitement. "This lapsang is cultivated by June Brandybuck and her brood over in the Far Downs. They smoke the tea leaves for three days to dry them out. It's a local favorite. I do have more if you'd like another cup. Or how about another flavor?" Bilbo made to lean in—he was really throwing manners to the wolves—and pull the scent from Dori but another Dwarf poked his head around the study's doorframe halting his attempt.

"Thorin wants to discuss the contract with you, Mr. Baggins," said Kili or Fili... princes no doubt!

"Oh, of course. Contract." He bowed to Dori and Ori and slipped from this study to return to the dining room in the path of the prince, and settled his gaze upon the crowd of Dwarves. He planted his hands on his hips. "So, contract. What's this all about?"

~~~

Thorin looked to Gandalf, then back at the Hobbit. "Gandalf didn't tell you?"

The Hobbit shook his head, his copper curls bouncing. "I've no idea why a dozen Dwarves and one Wizard showed up on my doorstep tonight without even a letter to declare pending arrival." The little halfling pressed his lips together in stern disapproval. 

Bilbo Baggins, an Alpha if Bifur was to be believed, stood like a general before his troops waiting for an explanation as to their failure at battle. Something about him put Thorin on edge. Perhaps it was because he hadn't been able to whiff him like he would have a Dwarf. Perhaps it was his unnatural kindness in the wake of their sudden and unwanted descent upon his home. Perhaps it was just because he was so small, his head barely reaching Thorin's chin. Maybe it was the pointed ears. Either way, Thorin scowled at him. "We are on a quest to reclaim our homeland, and are in need of a burglar. Gandalf recommended you."

"Oh, burglar? That explains your odd form of greeting earlier. No, I must say, I've never burgled a thing in my life, though, I do have quite the green thumb." He nodded sharply. "So grocer was a much better summation on your part, you majesty."

Dori, who'd left the Hobbit's library with Ori soon joining them, asked the halfling about what he grew and Bilbo rattled off a list of vegetables. Dori's scent subtly changed, from neutral home-baked bread to fruity citrus. Every Dwarf in the room stared at him.

"I know!" Ori muttered in Khudzul.

Dori stiffened, but continued his conversation with the small Alpha. This could be bad. Oin's wife was back in the Blue Hills, making him a mated Omega and beyond the influences of another Alpha. He, himself, was on herbs to stifle any mating instinct and heat, and he'd thought Dori and Nori were as well. But here Dori was, definitely interested in the new Alpha. Thorin snatched a look at Nori, whose expression, as usual, showed little. 

"Balin, please explain the contract to Bilbo. Dori, I would like a word."

Bilbo's attention darted between him and Dori, apparently shaken, as Dori excused himself and followed Thorin back to the halfling's study. Books upon books filled the modest-sized room dominated by a masterpiece of woodworking: the writing desk. Its bulk insisted that it must have been assembled within the study. The impressive personal collection could explain the Hobbit's knowledge about potentially hidden writing on the map. He could be useful in more than burglary, though it sounded like, from the Hobbit's own mouth, he wouldn't be much help in that corner.

Thorin sighed. No burglar, and now this. "Dori--"

"Thorin, you need not worry," Dori said in a defensive rush. "I'm on the herbs, just like every Omega in this Company. I'm just getting to know our newest member."

"Potential member," Thorin corrected. "He didn't even know about our quest." Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dori, your interest in the Hobbit might not be well founded."

"Of course, my king," Dori said, making Thorin flinch.

"Just... keep it toned down while the quest is under way. And please, don't go into heat."

Dori went rigid. It was stupid of Thorin to say that, it wasn't something an Omega could control, though the herbs helped. "I already said--"

"Yes, you did. But you know the herbs can fail an Omega if they've found a compatible Alpha."

Dori gave Thorin a stern look as he crossed his arms across his chest. "I think I'm old enough to control myself, Thorin."

"Yes, I know. I apologize." He reached out and gripped the Dwarf's shoulder. "Shall we return?"

Dori relaxed. "Of course."

Thorin bit the side of his cheek before he could ask, 'Why the grocer?' He did not want to insult one of the few Dwarves who'd answered his call to reclaim Erabor. The Hobbit was small and weak and probably didn't even understand how to use a sword or axe. His most valuable skill, after scholarship and cooking, would probably amount to knitting a doily. Certainly, he knew nothing of coaxing a gem from rough mineral. Thorin's mind tumbled over itself when a flash of understanding hit him. Dori was a tailor, and could probably knit a doily better too. Perhaps they were compatible. Perhaps, this would be a good match.

But, a halfling?

~~~

So, the story amounted to the need for Bilbo to steal something from a dragon. Smaug was the calamity’s name, and he'd nearly killed all the Dwarves in the mountain when he moved in some century and a half ago, and had driven the survivors to the far reaches of Middle-earth. And Bilbo was supposed to steal from him?

What was the point in that? It seemed their two options were to chase out or destroy the dragon, and stealing a golden cup from him proved little aid in either of those two goals. Good thing he was a scholar and had no less than five texts on dragons. Still, one Hobbit was not a dragon slayer.

"Well, he might be dead, laddie," Balin said. "No sign of him for sixty years. We just need someone who doesn't smell like a Dwarf to enter into the treasure hold to see if he still alive."

Funny how they thought a sixty year nap might mean the dragon was dead.

"That sounds more like a spy than a burglar." Bilbo didn't think he was going to be much help.

"Plus, we need a fourteenth member for the quest. Fourteen is a good, auspicious number," Gandalf explained as he lit his pipe. And if a Wizard said a number was auspicious, Bilbo guessed it was. 

It hurt his heart to think of these people wandering for years, for longer than Bilbo had been alive, wanting to go back to their homes. They had no generations of heirlooms. They had no cellar to age their cheese. Where did they keep their fine tea set that was only brought out at Yule and birthdays? Bilbo had the Shire and Bag End and busy body relatives and delightful neighbors and a community that supported him, and he it. He had everything. 

And these Dwarves, they had no home.

"I'll sign."

"What?" Thorin sputtered. Gandalf leaned back in his chair and puffed on his pipe.

"I said, I'll sign. I'll help. I'll go with you on your quest."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo still doesn't have a clue, but he'll try his hardest.

**Chapter 2**

At the end of their first day on the trail, Bilbo nearly oozed off his pony into a gangly lump in the dirt, crumpling in exhaustion. He'd been on many a walking holiday with his friends in recent years, and even more often when he was a youngster with his mother and father. They'd gone from Buckland to Tuckborough, all the way to Needlehole on a few occasions. But this endless pony riding sucked the vim and vigor from his bones. His rear burned with a deep seated ache he'd never had the displeasure of experiencing before. His inner thighs were jelly.

He'd ridden at the tail end of the procession for the majority of the torturous day, with Ori's easy conversation to pull his mind away from the endless rocking and bruising and heat that inhabited his lower half. The others had erected a bubble around themselves, an invisible wall that segregated the Dwarves from the single Hobbit, unsure where Bilbo stood in their ranks. Sad and lonely, Bilbo didn't quite blame them; he had no idea where he stood, either. But Ori was pleasant company, full of questions and ideas and stories. Dori would shoot them curious glances, which Bilbo inevitably always returned. Luckily, the pace wasn't forced, so Bilbo measured the price of the day not too extravagant.

"Ori, I know little about Dwarves. Could you tell me about yourselves?" Bilbo had asked, hoping his new friend would shed some light on their status, among other things.

Ori sat up straighter in his saddle, hips rocking with the sway of the pony, as comfortable as a bee on the wind. "Of course, Bilbo. Hmm, oh, but where to start?" He muttered to himself a little before he decided to give a rundown of the royals. "Well, Thorin is our king and he's got a sister, Dis, who is Fili and Kili's mother. Fili is the heir, since Thorin has no children. His grandfather was king when Smaug came," Ori said, his voice going less animated and quieter as he continued. "His brother Frerin died during the Battle of Azanulbizar. That's where Bifur got the ax in his head, too."

"Oh! He was injured in battle? He's quite the valiant warrior, to continue after such an injury." Bilbo looked over at the Alpha, who was silently riding next to his cousin. "I wonder, is he...?" How did Bilbo even ask?

"Oh, he's not mad or anything," Ori assured him, leaning towards Bilbo with big, earnest eyes. Bilbo bit his bottom lip, wondering if Ori was going to tumble from his seat. "He can only speak a really old form of Dwarven, but he can still understand Westron. It's curious, but he's not off in the head or anything." Ori waved his mittened hand in dismissal.

Bilbo sighed. Ori completely didn't catch that hook for information. Could he just ask? Was it considered rude to bluntly ask about status among Dwarves, like it was for Hobbits? 

Well, no matter who his Omega was, he would still need to prove to Bifur that he would be a worthy Alpha. His eyes caressed Dori's straight back. The silver braids adoring his head revealed a pride of person of which Bilbo approved. Dori's vest fit his sturdy body, the crafting of it a mastery. Dori twisted in the saddle, caught Bilbo riding next to Ori, and smiled.

Bilbo smiled back.

So, when camp was set up, Bilbo, legs bowed and aching, rear end desperate to never straddle a pony again 'till the stars fell from the sky, approached the cook. "Mister Bombur, do you mind if I help you with the meal?"

Bombur's smile was slow to blossom, but when it did the Dwarf's rosy cheeks billowed from his face. "Of course not, Mister Baggins."

"Bilbo, if you please. I've brought some spices and herbs," he opened a tin packed tight with bags of spices, "as well as some of the West Haven salt that we tend to use in Hobbiton, if you'd be amenable to trying some out."

Bombur sniffed at some of Bilbo's sachets. "Sounds doable. I'll see if the boys can hunt us up some fresh game."

"I'll go and find some roots, then, shall I?" Bilbo asked.

"Roots?" Bombur narrowed his eyes, stalling his lengthy process of setting up his cooking utensils. 

"Yes, Mister Bombur, roots and vegetables. Greens are important in a balanced diet. Well, for a Hobbit anyway." And with that he tottered out onto the hillside, aching with each stride, knowing that wild ginger and camas root grew near the forest's edge. 

When he returned victorious with camas and ginger, as well as miner's lettuce and dilly weed, Thorin charged up to him, an aura of anger and frustration darkening his typical scowl into a near thunderhead. Bilbo stepped back.

"Where were you?" the king demanded. 

Bilbo pulled himself up to his full height, which didn't amount to much compared to the tall Dwarf, but he wasn't about to take a scolding for no reason. "Foraging." 

Thorin's eyes narrowed at Bilbo's armload of vegetables. "Do not wander off alone. Take someone with you at all times."

Oh. "Well, we're still near the Shire, I don't expect any danger, your majesty."

"I do not care. You are in my Company and are my responsibility. Take someone with you next time. Fili or Kili, they know foraging and hunting the best. Or Dwalin, he'll watch your back as you grub around."

Bilbo frowned, but let it go. "Thank you for your consideration, Master Thorin. I will not go off alone again." Bilbo bowed, then as a peace offering, he held up his armload. "But look, quite the haul for only a half-hour foraging, don't you think?"

Thorin looked down at Bilbo's armful and sneered. "You eat like a weed-eater." And he stalked back to the camp.

Bilbo's eyes narrowed as he watched the king leave. 

~~~

"Add some caraway to the stew, it will bring out the camas' nuttyness," Bilbo suggested. It was full on night and the cook fire cast the only light for them to prepare the dinner. The two cooks hovered over the brass cook pot, watching it bubble and steam.

"If you say so, let's give it a try." Bombur added a spoonful of Bilbo's spice to the pot of rabbit and root stew. They'd gone through Bombur's spice collection, broader than Bilbo's, but then the Dwarf _was_ a professional cook, and Bilbo was delighted to find a few spices he didn't have in the Shire.

"Arrowroot helps thicken a broth." Bombur paraded out clay jar after clay jar, all neatly labeled in Dwarven runes. "Inach seeds add spiciness, like a chili, but only bolder. Not as hot."

Bilbo yanked free the cork of a jar and sniffed. "What's this?" It was familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"Oh, that's good on fish. Jasper seeds mixed with Riverblue berries. It's also good to aid in sleep, so Oin's probably got some Riverblue berries in his satchel as well." Bilbo took it all in, his brain soaking up the new knowledge like a kitten soaked up the sun. It almost made the ache in his rear worth it.

While Bombur finished the stew, Bilbo washed and filled a plain wooden bowl with the green vegetables. There wasn't enough for a full salad for everyone, not that he thought the Dwarves would appreciate it anyway, so he expected to eat it all himself. He pulled out a vial of vinegar and his salt and massaged the leaves to pickle them. The vinegar burned Bilbo's hand where the pony's lead had chaffed his skin. He was ready to just keel over onto his sleeping roll and sleep the sleep of post-harvest, but determination forced him to prepare his part of the meal.

"What are you doing, Mister Bilbo?" Kili squatted next to Bilbo as he prepared the vegetables, long hair brushing against his knees. Kili's leather boots creaked has he leaned forward onto his toes to get a better look at Bilbo's pickled mountain vegetables. 

Bilbo stifled a yawn. Fiddlesticks but his thighs ached. "Please, just Bilbo. Right now, I'm pickling the leaves, adding salt and vinegar. Then I'll let it soak until the stew is ready. It's truly a lovely flavor. Will you be trying some?" He couldn't help but hope. If one the princes tried it, maybe others would venture out into the world of vegetables as well. 

With much unnecessary caution, Kili leaned forward and sniffed. "Smells interesting," he said uncertainly.

Bilbo laughed. "That's certainly a strong acclamation. So, I heard _you_ killed the rabbits."

Kili preened, rocking back flat-footed. "I am the only archer of the Company. Well, Ori's deadly with the sling, but I'm the bowman. It's fun to hunt in these forests. More game than the areas around the Blues."

Fili strolled up. "And he's nearly silent when he's stalking his prey. Little bunnies didn't stand a chance." The other prince studied Bilbo's meal preparations. 

Bilbo stood with a groan and leaned over to stretch his legs. "Thorin told me that I should take you two with me next time I go foraging. For protection."

The brothers exchanged looks. "We would be delighted, Mister Baggins."

"Bilbo, please." When would these Dwarves get it into their stony heads?

"As long as we can hunt while you hunt." Kili's dimples were simply addictive. Both were handsome males, but Bilbo got no scent off either of them. Perhaps he should give up trying to suss out the Dwarves' statuses and just await the scent to catch the wind again. But it was hard for Bilbo to wait passively when his compatible Omega was so close. 

"It sounds like a fair compromise, Kili." The leaves had reached appropriate pickled levels and so Bilbo lifted up a leaf for Kili to taste. Kili stared at Bilbo, then exchanged another look with Fili. Fili's lips twitched. An almost smirk? He'd really need to learn to decipher all of these looks. "Well, would you like to try some?"

"Sure, Bilbo." Kili reached out and took the leaf from Bilbo's hand and chewed. "Not bad! Not bad at all."

Bilbo beamed. "I told you!"

Dinner was announced and the Company cheered. They gathered around the fire. "Smells delicious, Bombur," Bofur praised, ladling a bowl full. 

Bilbo dished up stew and set some pickled vegetables onto a wooden plate and served it to Bifur. "Here you are, Mister Bifur, please enjoy your meal."

All around, the entire rambunctious camp went still. The Dwarves stared at him, and Bilbo hated it. He felt exposed. If he was doing something wrong, they should just inform him of his faux paus. This was getting ridiculous. Bifur said something unintelligible as he took the plate. Bilbo wondered if he was being judged by his peace offering to the other Alpha. Was it adequate? Did he require more food than the others rather than first dishing? But the Dwarf began eating and didn't challenge Bilbo, so he must be doing it right.

~~~

"He tried to feed me. With his hand," Kili said to the group of Dwarves huddled around the dying fire. The spring night held a tender bite to it, and many of the Dwarves were swaddled up in their blankets. Bilbo was absent their little conference, washing up at the stream with Dwalin as guard, allowing the Dwarves to gossip freely. 

Fili laughed as he polished his knives with a stained cloth. "Very romantic. Soon, he'll be putting his bead in your hair."

"He doesn't know our ways," Balin excused the Hobbit.

"I think he's trying to court me, too," Bifur said in Khudzul. "Don't mind him serving me, but I'm not interested."

"Dori's interested," Nori teased, which earned him a slap from his brother that rocked him forward.

"Maybe in the way of Hobbits, one Alpha feeds another Alpha first," Oin suggested.

"Well, why isn't he feeding Balin, too? Or Gloin or Bomfur, though they're married," Bofur asked. "I think the little bloke doesn't have a clue. He can't tell who is what status. Well, except Bifur and Dori."

Thorin didn't know why everyone was all stirred up like chickens in a hen house over the halfling. "He's not a Dwarf. Don't expect him to act like one." 

"Maybe it would clear things up for him if we told him," Dori said with a barely contained huff of frustration. 

"Then he'd be treating us by Hobbit standards, not by dwarven. It's better if he just treats us all the same," Nori said. "And I say, Kili, if he tries to feed you by hand again, eat up." He waggled his eyebrows at the prince, swiping his tongue along his lips. "See what other services he'll give you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets a small, tiny clue.

Chapter 3

Leaning against a granite boulder, casual as can be, Gandalf asked, "How are you fairing, my boy?" Several days had passed with few problems, the most distracting being Kili's failure to tighten his saddle strap and having the saddle slip to the side, sending Kili tumbling to the ground, and Bilbo's lack of success in determining who was the compatible Omega. They had chosen a camp in a thin, dry wood of pine and oak, and the two friends were relaxed on a couple of boulders a fair distance from the others. Bilbo had collected several baskets of acorns and left them roasting over the fire for an after dinner treat. Overhead the wind ghosted through the tops of the trees and brought in a slight chill. Bilbo pulled his burgundy long-coat tight against the breeze.

"Well enough, Gandalf. I can finally feel my rear after a day of riding." Bilbo leaned in close. He muttered a little, licked his lips, then took a deep breath and finally asked. "Gandalf, do you by chance know which of these Dwarves is an Alpha... or Omega?"

Gandalf pursed his lips and seemed to ponder that question while studying the clouds. His searching gaze roved down onto Bilbo's face. "Well, perhaps that's personal, don't you think, Bilbo?"

Bilbo huffed. "Well, yes, I do. But, I don't want to inadvertently insult anyone." A bat flapped by overhead and Bilbo watched its progress until it blended into the darkening sky.

"Oh, don't you worry about that, Bilbo. In Dwarven culture, your status doesn't matter too much. Everyone is on equal terms. The only time status comes up is during mating, which shouldn't be a problem on this quest, don't you think?" Gandalf tapped the bowl of his pipe against his boot and stuffed it full of weed.

Bilbo hmmed to himself, puffing on his own pipe. The weed smoke settled in his lungs, calming him. Mating might not come to play, but he would not give up on his Omega. The first one with a compatible scent he'd ever stumbled on… in his entire life. There would be no surrender on his search. "Possibly. Still, if it's true, and you've no guidelines to offer me on how to treat the Dwarves, I'll continue as I have."

"Feeding Bifur first?" Gandalf chuckled.

"Well, he is the strongest Alpha I can detect.” Bilbo whined a little. “The only Alpha I can detect." And it frustrated Bilbo, how invisible dwarven scents were to Hobbits. "I don't want him to become angry with me, thinking I'm attempting to seduce away those under his protection."

"Oh, I don't think any of the Dwarves think that. You've an invited member of the Company. A strong Alpha Hobbit with valuable knowledge to aid in the quest. See how you might have shed some light on the map. I'm even more convinced we need to go to Rivendell to talk to Elrond." He leaned towards Bilbo conspiratorially. "Now to convince our leader of that need." He nodded towards Thorin, walking into the camp with an armload of firewood. 

"I'm sure he'll listen to reason, Gandalf." Really, it was the polite thing to say, even if Bilbo didn't quite collect all his hopes in that basket. 

The Wizard snorted then chuckled low. "Oh, he's a stubborn one, but a good king. Unfortunately," he said with a sigh, "not apt to listen when focused on certain prejudices." In the distance the Dwarves began a rowdy song in Khuzdul, something Bilbo thought probably belonged in a bar by the pacing and tone. Bofur must have started it. 

"Why does he hate Elves so much?" Bilbo had heard enough rows about Elves to understand Thorin wasn't the only one who disliked, dare he say despised, the Firstborn.

"Oh, why does anyone hate anything? A boy will hate all dogs if one bites him in his formative years."

"An Elf bit him?"

Gandalf pressed his lips together, sucked on his pipe and said, "In a way, yes," letting smoke rings sail away with his words.

Bilbo could understand. He hated Orcs and Wargs. He hated thunderstorms and thistle bushes. Well maybe 'hate' was a harsh word when it came to his relationship with thistles, but it was close when the foul weeds popped up in his garden and the battles were bloody every summer. 

The sky was black overhead when he took to helping with dinner that evening, this time pulling out some of his aromatic teas. Such delights should not be horded, and in fact, should be shared. He grabbed an extra mug from Bombur's stash and brewed up a cup for Dori, who was also a tea connoisseur. The acorns' roasted scent filled the air, so Bilbo collected some on one of Bombur's plates. Bilbo scanned the Company and found the Omega Dwarf near the fire, hunched over something in his lap. As Bilbo got closer, he could see Dori was embroidering something.

"Dori, um, excuse me?" Dori looked up from his work and grinned, baring teeth and dimples, and a generally welcoming attitude. Bilbo's belly flipped at the Dwarf's eternally warm expression. "Would you like some toasted barley and mint tea? Or some acorns?" Bilbo offered the cup and the plate of roasted nuts.

"Oh, it smells lovely, Bilbo. Thank you." He set aside his needlework and took the cup. "And nuts. What a treat. Would you join me, please?"

"I would love to." Bilbo sat on a small log next to the fire, balancing the plate of acorns beside him, ignoring the other Dwarves. "What are you working on?" 

Wrinkles sprouted around Dori's eyes as his smile widened at Bilbo's interest, and that same delight settled in Bilbo's belly at the Dwarf's interest in him. Because Dori _was_ interested. Though the scenting wasn't the same as with a Hobbit, and Bilbo couldn't catch exact flavors of Dori's scent, his Alpha body was reacting in a similar fashion. 

"Something for Ori, so he won't keep losing his socks." Dori lifted up a pair of socks with half a dwarven mark sewn into one. Dori leaned closer to speak to Bilbo. Bilbo's heartbeat skipped up a notch, the echo playing in his ears. He ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth, trying to taste Dori's scent. "Nori keeps trying to take them."

Bilbo chuckled, low and sultry. Dori's eyes widened. Oh fiddlesticks, Bilbo's body was thinking on its own. He's released scent unintentionally. Terribly, terribly rude! Bilbo cleared his throat and sat upright, trying to pull some propriety around him to clear the air, so to speak. His eyes immediately shifted to Bifur, who was carving something from a fat stick on the opposite side of the fire.

"Might I ask you something, Bilbo?"

He jerked his gaze from the Alpha and faced Dori again. None of the delighted smile remained, and Bilbo steeled himself for a delicate reprimand from this most proper of Dwarves. Confound it, Bilbo Baggins! Your father taught you better.

"Why do you offer Bifur food first?"

That wasn't expected. To steady his nerves, Bilbo picked up a few acorns and began peeling away the shells, keeping the shake from his hands. "Well, you see, it's Hobbit tradition." He offered an acorn to Dori, who took it with a gentle thank you. "To... ah, feed the host Alpha first. It's an old tradition, proves I'm not trying to take anything not my own, or step on any toes." He wiggled his own toes, warmed from the fire, then popped a roasted nut in his mouth.

"Why only Bifur, then?"

Bilbo swallowed, nearly choking. Dori slapped him on the back. "Oh crabapples. Honestly, Dori..." he skimmed his eyes over the crowd of Dwarves, "I'm not sure who is what status. Bifur and you are the only two I've sussed out. I hope I'm not doing anything wrong. I'd hate to insult through ignorance." He grabbed his tea mug and squeezed his hands tight around it as he focused on the fire. He swallowed down chewed acorn, his throat tight and misbehaving. "I asked Gandalf and he wouldn't tell me."

Dori hmmed, half amused, half thoughtful, and the sound sent a shiver through Bilbo. He wanted to lean closer to the Omega, bury his nose into Dori's neck and inhale. Rub their cheeks together. Lather Dori in his scent. Bilbo squeezed the mug instead, nearly crushing it in his desperation. He took a sip. Mint and barely. 

"Better through ignorance than intention," Dori said. "Bifur thinks your courting him." Dori leaned over, his shoulder bumping Bilbo's. Bilbo stiffened. "You should know," Dori said, voice sliding over Bilbo's nerve endings, "he's not interested."

"Confound it." Bilbo abandoned his mug, nearly dropping it to the ground, and buried his face in his hands. "I am not courting him. I am showing him respect." He finally looked up and faced the fine Dwarf. "You see, Dori. It's not good either way, ignorance or intention. Could you please tell me the proper way, for Dwarves."

"Oh, it's quite simple.” That warm smile returned. “Our status doesn't really play much of a part in our society... unless there is courting business going on, or someone's in rut or heat."

Bilbo scoffed. "Surely, it can't be that simple."

Dori nodded, seemingly pleased to have shocked Bilbo. "Oh, it's true. Nobody gets fed first. Nobody gets left behind. Nobody is better than anyone else. But…." He gave a very subtle head incline towards Thorin, who was in conference with Balin near the ponies. "We have our royalty and they are our rulers. Really, they are the only ones who get treated differently."

"Oh heavens. Should I feed him first?" Bilbo was frustrated. He hated coming across as coarse.

Dori sputtered, and a flash of something Bilbo couldn't read landed on his face and was gone. "Not out of any cultural propriety just because he's our king. At a formal banquet, certainly, on the trail, no. It would be..." Dori looked away from Bilbo to the fire, his expression pinched and terribly uncomfortable. "Well, as with Bifur. If you offered Thorin food first, it would show an interest in him. In courting him."

"Oh, well I see I've made a muddle of things. Perhaps I should go clear things up with Bifur, before this misunderstanding grows." Bilbo settled his hands on his thighs, ready to go about the humiliating business. 

Tension eased from Dori's shoulders. "So, you're definitely not courting Bifur?" 

Bilbo nearly choked, then laughed. "Another Alpha? Oh no." He shook his head. "I mean, it's done. For Hobbits. It doesn't have to be Alpha to Omega or anything, but I think the strain would kill me."

"How so?"

"Maybe it's not like this for Dwarves, but with Hobbits there's always this challenge. This desire to be… not dominate per say, but… a protector of sorts. It's all very silly, and it can be worked around. Pumpkin Turnbuckle and Philly Hillyard have a lovely relationship, and they are both Alphas. As a lad, I had very close Alpha friends, though we had our scraps. And as adults, there're few disputes between Alphas as the hormones have had some time to age. The younger lads and lasses, they're the ones you have to keep an eye on as they learn to control their urges."

"Oh, that is very different. As I said before, things are all fairly level, status-wise, except for mating desires. But, you always have your personality conflicts."

Fili and Kili squealed as they began fighting over some meat on a stick they were cooking over the fire. Fili held the stick behind him, beyond Kili's reach. Bofur held onto his hat, his laughter sending his entire body into shakes.

"Oh, that's good. I'd hate to facedown with Bifur for some misunderstanding. I can just imagine your Alpha forms when defending your Omegas. I don't think I'd stand a chance." He shrugged with honesty, because seriously, Dwarf against Hobbit, there wasn't much of a contest there.

Dori sipped his tea, pondering something. "Forms?"

Bilbo cocked his head. "Yes. Forms. For defending... and mating." Bilbo felt his face heat. He hoped it was from the fire. Oh crabapples. He wasn't a tween anymore. "Wait... what? You don't have forms?"

Dori shook his head, looking over this cup at Bilbo. "What are your forms?"

"Oh, well." Bilbo took in a deep breath. "When defending an Omega... our hormones tend to just... take over and we change. Physically. I've never done it, you see. I don't have an Omega and well, all the time I've been of age I haven't seen any attacked. We kinda go... Oh, this is all so very embarrassing." He buried his face into his hands again. "We go somewhat bestial," he whispered.

"Oh really! I had... no idea."

Bilbo peeked through his fingers at the Omega, whose eyes were wide as he surveyed Bilbo. The tea mug hovered before his lips, forgotten in the Dwarf's shock. The fire crackled, the only sound after that outburst of shock. 

"Do you get... bestial when you mate?" Dori asked, not quite meeting Bilbo's gaze.

"Oh, no no no. Well... not the same. We don't really physically change like that. It's more like ... a peacock. Our facial skin shows different colors. Trying to entice a mate. Dwarves really don't have any of this?" he nearly whined. 

Dori shook his head, his own cheeks taking on a bit of pink in the fire's light. "No. Nothing like that. Of course there are scent changes and the like."

Nori plopped down on the log next to Bilbo and scooped up some nuts. "What are you all talking about? I overheard something about bestiality?"

Bilbo stiffened. "What? No. No! That's... eww!"

Nori laughed, then bumped Bilbo's shoulder with his own—a more violent form of the gentle tap Dori had given him earlier—sending Bilbo into Dori's side. Bilbo narrowed his eyes at the Dwarf, wondering what his game was. 

"We're just getting to know each other, Nori," Dori said. By the tone, Dori was a bit on the defensive. 

"Are you labeling Ori's socks?" Nori asked, leaning over Bilbo to look at the forgotten embroidery resting on the log next to Dori. This close Bilbo could catch it. Omega scent. It curled up within Bilbo's nose and sent a sizzle through his body. Tickles of arousal teased him and his trousers suddenly felt tighter. Oh confound it. He was not a tween!

Bilbo scrambled away from Nori, up and over his log, and offered a small bow to the brothers. "If you'll excuse me. I have a misunderstanding to clear up." He headed towards Bifur.

~~~

"You chased him away," Dori muttered once Bilbo was out of earshot. He took up his embroidery and slipped the needle through the wool of the sock, pulling it out the other side, dragging a line of green thread through the material.

"You two were cozy." Nori began peeling a roasted acorn. An overwhelming urge to slap it out of Nori's hand hit him. Instead Dori breathed in deep once, twice. He had to measure his breathes sometimes, when it came to Nori.

"Yes, well, we've similar interests." Dori pierced the sock again. "And, did you just scent him?"

Nori laughed. "Just wanted to give him more of a clue of who was who. Did you see how quick he scampered away?" He munched on the nut, his mouth swaying like a cow chewing its cud. How crass.

Dori huffed and set his needle work down on his lap, shaking his head at Nori. "Don't tease, it isn't nice."

Nori leered at his brother. "Who says I'm teasing."

Dori tensed. Was his brother seriously interested in the Hobbit? Of course he wasn't. He was just pulling Dori's braids like a dwarfling. "I say. And it isn't nice. If you'd released scent on accident, maybe you need to take in more herbs. You might be going into heat." He checked the sock, to make sure his stitch was tight.

"Oh, and I wonder who will take care of me if I do?"

Images of Bilbo and Nori coupling flashed through Dori's mind and he slammed the socks into his lap, pricking himself in the thigh with the needle. Unintentionally he released scent, a warning to the other Omega to back off. "Nori," he growled.

Nori leaned back, scrutinizing gaze roaming over Dori. Dori looked away, taking in a soothing breath as he collected himself. "I am sorry, brother," Dori said.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't really think you were serious, about—" he jerked his head towards where Bilbo and Bifur were in some frantic miming dance. Nearby, Kili and Fili were laughing at their attempt to communicate. Dwalin just watched, grinning like a fool.

"I'm not. I'm just interested in him as a fellow appreciative of the finer things." Dori pressed his hand against his thigh, brushing over the pin prick. The fire dipped and danced, burning his night-sight. 

"Like tea and nosegays?" Nori's tone was soft and it bristled Dori to think his brother knew anything about what he enjoyed, when Nori was always out getting arrested and causing havoc. But Dori held any protests and merely shrugged, not letting his brother play him.

"Exactly."

Bilbo bowed at Bifur, who bent at the waist in return. Kili was on the ground, holding his sides. Finally Bilbo turned away from Bifur, sending a scathing glare at Kili, and then caught sight of Nori and Dori. His eyes widened; he tilted his head. Dori gave the slightest shrug. It was a silent and quick conversation. Bilbo headed towards them.

"Oh, here he comes. I'll leave you two alone." Nori popped up from the log and passed Bilbo, patting him on the back. "Good nuts." 

Bilbo watched after him, then returned to his seat next to Dori on the log.

"We'll, I think I've got that cleared up." Bilbo smiled at Dori, which only sped up the Dwarf's heartbeat and did none of the consoling it was meant to do. Was Bilbo interested? More importantly, was Dori? After all these years fending off Dwarf after Dwarf, was this Hobbit the one to spin him up?

~~~

Bilbo couldn't sleep. Nori's Omega scent twirled around in his head. Though the scent was definitely not the scent of his Omega, it had an undeniable effect on Bilbo who hadn't been scented like that for nigh on two decades. He threw off his blanket and marched away from the camp towards the creek, needing some cold water to cool his face. He could feel the heat there and knew he was probably flashing some color, if only a little. 

"Oh, bugger," he muttered to himself once he met the little stream. He squatted at the bank and watched the moon's reflection dip and twist in the rushing water. Trailing fingers in the flow, he scooped some water up and splashed it over his cheeks. 

"I thought I told you not to wander off."

Bilbo yelped and jumped to his feet, splashing backwards into the river. Water lapped at the cuff of his trousers. Thorin stood in the grasses farther up the riverbank, all majestic and huge in his cover of furs.

"I just needed a moment, a private moment. Do you follow everyone everywhere?"

Thorin glowered. "I'm sorry if I interrupted your… constitutional. But let the night watch know where you're going next time." Thorin's eyes narrowed. "What's on your face?"

"Oh fiddlesticks," Bilbo muttered, slapping his hands to his cheeks and ducking his head. "Nothing," he said louder. "I’m fine, just…" Desperate, lonely and needy. "It's just a reaction. I'll be pale and pasty in no time." He nodded once as he passed Thorin, scampering back to his sleeping roll.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo senses danger on the wind.

Chapter 4

They sky opened up, releasing a torrent of cold rain that drenched Bilbo through to his skin. Soon he'd need gills. He hadn't packed at all appropriately for such an adventure and had, in a flurry of wishing to impress his Omega, only packed gentlemanly attire. What a fool he'd been. Dori offered Bilbo a gray woolen scarf—which he eagerly accepted—and though soggy, it shielded him from the wind. 

Plus, it smelled like Dori.

Bofur rode up next to Bilbo, his goofy hat protecting most of his head and shoulders against the deluge. In that unguarded instant, Bilbo wanted that stupid hat. "How are you holding up, Bilbo?" He reigned in his pony. "Enjoying the weather?" 

A raindrop splattered on the end of Bilbo's nose. He scowled at Bofur, far too cheerful in such an inappropriate circumstance. "I might just climb off this pony to perform Mistress Wicky's rain dance to stop this nonsense."

Bofur blinked, then shook his head. "Wait, you have a dance that will stop this rain?"

"Well, nobody believes it actually works," Bilbo confessed. In late spring, when folks were ready to sow the fields, and also during the ripe harvest of fall, Mistress Wicky could be found in the field, strutting around like a cockerel and flapping her arms. Sometimes the rains stopped, yet often enough it kept on falling. 

"Well, keep your secret Hobbit magic to yourself. Just be that way," Bofur said with a hurt frown.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. "I will at that!" Bofur rode off, waving in his congenial manner. The day continued, wet and dreary. Few chatted during their ride, their moods as soggy as their trousers. The ponies trudged along, heads down, spirits drowned in the mud they slogged through. 

When they finally arrived at the burned out abandoned house, though the rain had stopped, Bilbo wasn't pleased. The hairs on the back of his neck tickled even though they were buried under a layer of Dori-scented wet wool. "Gandalf, we can't stop here. Burned out building? Freshly ransacked? Does this sound like a good plan to you?" He was agitated and snappy, and even Ori and Dori kept their distance from him.

Gandalf pulled Bilbo aside, as waterlogged as the rest, but apparently unfazed by their miserable circumstances. "What is it Bilbo? You've wound yourself quite into a tidy lather."

Bilbo snarled, causing Gandalf's eyebrows to jerk upwards. "My, my," Gandalf said, "Are your teeth getting pointier?"

Bilbo closed his mouth, tongued his teeth and realized he was going all fangy. A quick glance at his hands showed his nails had thickened and elongated. A precursor to claws. Oh ho. His body was responding to danger with Omegas around. "I don't like it here, Gandalf. It isn't safe."

Gandalf leveled one of his infuriating gazes as Bilbo. "You and Dori have gotten close for you to react like this."

Bilbo huffed out a resigned sigh. "Don't know if it's Dori, but there's a compatible Omega here. I scented him, in my home," he growled out, his words thick around his shifting mouth. Fine enunciation a challenge with bigger teeth and a hint of muzzle. 

"Oh, now, is that why you so readily joined?" Gandalf chuckled.

Another snarl that Bilbo didn't try to stop. Bilbo hated it when Gandalf got all sanctimonious like he knew everything.

"Calm down now, Mr. Baggins. Let's talk to Thorin and see about relocating if you're that worried." Gandalf tipped the brim of his hat. Rain trickled off. "You might want to calm yourself, though, if you don't want undue attention."

"You go…" his words were thicker in his mouth, "I need, a moment." 

Gandalf left, his long soggy robes trailing in the wet grasses, and Bilbo paced a pathway through the undergrowth trying to force calm into his body. The cold rain-drenched grasses chilled his feet and coated them with stray bits of leaf and seeds. No matter how many paces he force-marched through, he couldn't find any calm; there was danger here. Danger to Dori, who he had grown quite close to, and to the compatible Omega. To the entire group, really, who had become, if not quite friends, at least companions. Another snarl filled his throat, and just to burn off some steam, Bilbo punched his fist into the trunk of a nearby broadleaf tree. It didn't quite help release his irritation, so he did it again.

"Bilbo! Oh my, now. What has—Oh!"

Bilbo pounced on Dori, and pulled the Dwarf to his side, growling softly. He scanned his surroundings, taking in any potential dangers to the Omega. 

Dori cleared his throat. "Bilbo?"

Bilbo could feel a soft touch to his head, a slow and gentle petting. Bilbo leaned into the touch, his growl changing to a less aggressive noise. Dori had nice hands, strong yet tender fingers.

"Is everything okay?" Dori asked, his body slowly relaxing in Bilbo's embrace. Bilbo searched for a safe place to tuck Dori away, hide him from the danger. There was only forest, and a few hundred yards away, a burned out house. Farther beyond were some rocky outcroppings leading up to a hill. Maybe there was a cave there. One he could stash Dori in. Nobody could come up behind them, and—

"Bilbo?" Dori's voice was stern. Bilbo flinched and looked up at the Dwarf. His eyebrows were bunched: concern. "Talk to me."

"It's a little hard," Bilbo said, showing his teeth that had grown fierce within his elongated mouth—not a hound's mouth, but certainly hosting a bit of a muzzle—fangs and sharp edges across the row. "I am trying to calm…" he swallowed, "…myself."

Dori frowned, his eyebrows now elevated up his forehead. "Okay, so why… why did you go, um, bestial?"

Bilbo whiffed the air, and caught a scent of oranges. _Oranges_. The scent from his smial. In Alpha transition, he could read the odors like print on parchment. Bilbo turned on Dori. _Dori was oranges._

Bilbo popped up to his tiptoes and buried his nose into the Dwarf's neck. A trickle of water trailed down his spine as he ran the tip of his nose along Dori's smooth skin. He inhaled. Joy and delight and passion raced the water down his back. He sniffed again, tasting the flavor on the roof of his mouth. Pressed against his body, Dori shuddered. A low purr rumbled deep in Bilbo's chest. Dori, he was the oranges and smoke. He was the compatible Omega. A needy growl burred at the back of Bilbo's throat. He brushed his facial scent glands along Dori's neck, marking him. 

His. 

His Omega. 

But it wasn't the complete scent. There was another Omega here. It had been oranges and cinnamon. Who was the cinnamon?

"Bilbo, stop that, right now. It isn't proper." Dori's scolding penetrated Bilbo's instinctual nature and he tilted away from that divine scent. With another force of will, Bilbo released his grip on Dori, looking away in shame. If he acted like an uncouth beast, Dori would never want him. Dori scrubbed at his neck with the heel of his hand, a hint of a blush spreading from under his beard, mouth opened, taking in breath. 

"Something's out there," Bilbo said. His nose flared—Dori and oranges and the traces of predator: rotten flesh and musk and hunger. Bilbo could feel the nails on his feet and fingers growing. His arms and legs bulked up, straining his jacket and trousers. Soon his tail would sprout and he certainly wasn't ready to drop his trousers before Dori to allow for that. "Something dangerous."

Dori's hands fluttered through the air, halfway to reaching for Bilbo, but unsure. Water dripped from his hair and caught in his lashes. He was beautiful. Bilbo had always thought so, but now he radiated a certain magnetic glory. And there was kindness and warmth in his eyes. "Well, now, our best protection is the group. Will you come back with me?"

"Bilbo? Dori?" 

Bilbo stiffened, sniffed the air. Ori was coming their way. Beta Ori. No threat. A friend. Bilbo relaxed and retreated another step away from Dori, providing proper space between him and the Omega. Even in Alpha transformation, Bilbo would not forgo common courtesy. 

"Over here, Ori." Dori half reached for Bilbo, but then dropped his arm. "But please, don't rush. Bilbo's a little … on edge."

~~~

Dori watched as Bilbo shifted, his movements sharp, like a hunting cat, eyes skipping from one tree to the next to the next. Searching. Bilbo's Alpha scent came off him in waves. He smelled of honey and apples, soothing yet stirring Dori's own responsive reaction. Dori needed to fan himself, get away from the Alpha pheromones. Indeed. Marking Dori with his scent. Oh, my Mahal, if Dori hadn't nearly preened under the marking, releasing waves of his own interest. 

The transformation was more remarkable than Bilbo had let on. Though, he hadn't grown in stature, he had grown in mass. He was heftier, more like a Dwarf, and both his eyes and ears had increased in size, probably to seek out any danger. Stripes of yellow slashed across his cheekbones. A warning, most certainly, like a yellow jacket. With elongated teeth and claws, even on his overly large feet, he looked capable of delivering sever damage to any he thought a threat. Dori's heart raced, not because he was afraid of Bilbo—he certainly seemed to want to protect him—but because something was out there that had set the Hobbit Alpha off.

Ori's eyes went wide when he took in Bilbo and Dori caught the negated action of his brother reaching into his satchel for his book. Probably too wet still. "Bilbo, what's happened to you?" He rushed up to Bilbo, who stiffened and turned his head away from Ori.

"Ori, dear." Dori reached out to hold his brother back. "I wouldn't do that. I think he's in protective Alpha mode."

"Hobbit Alphas' bodies change?" Ori asked, curious and delighted. Leave it to Ori. There would be a new page in his book all about this by the end of the day. Assuming they found somewhere dry.

"Apparently." Dori didn't know what to do. Take Bilbo back to the camp, certainly, but he wasn't sure if Bilbo wanted the others to see him. But if there was danger, they needed to return. 

Ori tore his gaze away from Bilbo. "Well, Thorin sent me to look for you. Gandalf stormed off and everyone's creeped out."

Bilbo seemed even more interested in that news. Then, with another of his deep growls, he grabbed Dori's arm, his smaller hand unable to circle Dori's wrist, and began dragging him back to camp.

"Bilbo, stop this instant." Dori would not put up with this manhandling, even if he was a little delighted that Bilbo was trying to protect him. "Let go of me." He could force the matter, but he'd rather not hurt the Hobbit, not to mention an accidental scrape from those claws wasn't something he felt like chancing. 

Bilbo's large eyes widened. His head tilted and he let lose a little whine. Dori's compassionate heart squeezed. "Please?" Bilbo said, his voice thick and rough.

Dori pressed his lips together and shared a look with Ori. His brother shrugged, and if that smirk didn't look a little like Nori's. Oh by the stones, he wasn't sure he could handle two Noris. However, neither Dori nor Ori knew how to treat Bilbo in such a state. "Fine, Bilbo. But stop dragging me. You may hold my hand, but none of this hauling me around."

Bilbo slipped his small hand down into Dori's, fingers strained to point his nails away from flesh, and gestured for Dori to lead. 

"He's quite… protective of you." Ori smiled behind his soggy mitten as he walked beside Dori.

"Well, yes, I think it's because I'm an Omega. Right Bilbo?" Another wave of Alpha scent tickled Dori's spine and he shivered, cursing his tightening trousers. This was certainly not the time! Not the time to grab his Hobbit and find a nice concealing bush to … Oh, bother.

Bilbo, head tilted, sniffed again, nostrils flaring. He groaned, then shook his head like a pony dislodging a fly. His grip tightened on Dori's hand. After a moment he nodded and followed along beside Dori, eyes constantly scanning, nose up in the air taking in whiffs of it. Dori led them through a forest of evergreens, low shrubs brushing against their ankles soaking their already saturated pant legs. Soon, he could hear voices murmuring low in the distance.

"Bilbo?" Ori asked. Bilbo looked over at Dori's little brother, ears erect and curious. "Are you like this with every Omega in danger, or just Dori?"

Oh, drat that Ori. Dori felt his cheeks heat up, but couldn't deny his own interest. 

Bilbo thought on that, then shook his head. "Not sure," he managed to say around his pointed teeth. "First time." Then he hissed, released Dori's hand, and began fussing with the back of his trousers. Dori and Ori stood back and watched with a kind of dreaded interest, unsure of what to expect. Then, Bilbo opened a flap and out unfurled a tail, fairly thick at the base, about half a Hobbit in length, and covered in fur the same shade as his hair. Bilbo sighed. "Pinching," he said, then once again claimed Dori's arm and they continued to the gathering of Dwarves.

"Well, that is… kinda cute," Ori said with a chuckle.

Dori agreed. When Bilbo had said he'd go bestial, he really wasn't mincing words.

The first to notice their return was Kili. Who, not surprisingly, bounded up to them announcing to the camp that "Bilbo's got a tail?!"

Bilbo immediately put himself between Kili and Dori, hissing like a feral cat, tail out, swinging back and forth. Kili stumbled to a halt. Everyone else went still. 

"It appears that Bilbo feels we're in danger and well, his Hobbit Alpha transformation happened," Dori explained in as few words as possible, gesturing at the hissing evidence before them.

"That's what a Hobbit Alpha does?" Kili took a step closer, but Bilbo shook his head. Half apologetic, half warning.

"What's wrong Bilbo," Ori asked. "Kili is no danger."

Bilbo tilted his nose up and whiffed the air. "Alpha," he said.

"Whoa, look at those teeth. And, I'm not an Alpha, well, I might be. I haven’t presented yet," Kili said, trying to peer into Bilbo's mouth. Bilbo scowled.

"Well, Kili, I think we have a good idea of what you might present as, then." Fili came up behind his brother, slapping him on the back as he approached. "See, Bilbo isn't bothered by me at all."

"Me, either," Ori explained, shrugging in his layers of knitted wool.

Bilbo shook his head, then turned to Dori. "We leave."

"Where?" Dori asked, still quite taken with the idea that Bilbo was so certain they were in danger, that his entire body rearranged itself to an obviously combative structure.

The others began to gather around them, Bifur staying back along with Bombur and Balin. Dori nodded his thanks to the Alphas. Thorin remained near the fire, watching with narrowed eyes. Bilbo lifted his nose to the air again, eyes shifting to Oin, then Nori, then faced down the hill toward the charred house. His lips lifted, baring his teeth like an angry dog. Then he spun on his feet in the opposite direction and began dragging Dori again, reaching out for Oin as he passed the other Omega and gently trying to lead him along with Dori. Nori was beyond the Hobbit's reach, but Dori could just see the desire to gather him up in Bilbo's shaking hands and agitation.

"This way," Bilbo said.

"Can someone tell me what exactly is going on," Thorin finally asked, joining the group.

Bilbo's head shot up and he faced down Thorin. His nostrils quivered as he whiffed the air. Another whine. He looked from Dori to Thorin and back to Dori again. Poor thing, wanted to protect them all. The grip on Dori's hand tightened to near crushing. Dori squeezed reassuringly back.

"Bilbo said there's danger here and he wants to leave. Whatever he sensed forced a change to his body. Apparently, it's what Alpha Hobbits do when," he looked down at Bilbo, "Omegas are in danger." Bilbo nodded.

"And, he's got a tail! I want to pet it," Kili said from behind them. 

Dori glared at their youngest member. Of all times. Really. "I wouldn't unless you want to lose a hand. I don't think he's in full cognizance right now. He thinks you’re an Alpha, and I am not sure if he considers you a danger too, or just a general threat. But it's best to let things be calm now and ask him later."

Kili pouted and Fili leaned in to say, "I want to touch it too, Ki. But Dori's right."

Thorin approached Dori and Bilbo, Dwalin close to his back. Bilbo whined again and reached for Thorin. Thorin kept out of range, his arms crossed. "So, there is danger here?"

Bilbo nodded.

"And if we leave, you will return to normal."

Bilbo rocked his head from side to side, then settled on another nod.

"And you don't know what the danger is?"

Bilbo hmmed. "Predator?"

Thorin turned the direction Bilbo indicated. "Fine, we'll break camp and move the group away. Fili and Dwalin, check out the area… quietly. See if you can find anything. Do not engage in any foe you might find."

Bilbo growled, eyes landing on Fili and Dwalin, then he scowled at Thorin.

"Do you want to go with them?" Thorin asked, voice stern and challenging.

Dori squeezed Bilbo's hand. He didn't want Bilbo to go off into danger, unknown as it was. Bilbo squeezed back and shook his head, stepping closer to Dori and with a soft lead, pulling Oin to him. 

Oin rolled his eyes, but let the Hobbit direct him. "Come now, I'm mated," Oin grumbled. "Should I even be registering for him?"

"Apparently. So, Bilbo, you want to stay with the Omegas?" Dori asked, having become the spokesman for the transformed Hobbit. Not that he minded.

Bilbo exhaled and nodded quickly. He reached out to Thorin, hand hanging in the air. Thorin did not move. 

"You will find, halfling, that whether we are Alpha, Beta or Omega we can protect ourselves."

Bilbo's nostrils flared again, his grip tightened. Dori wondered what was going through the Hobbit's mind, but it was obvious he wasn't happy. "Understood," Bilbo managed to say in his strangled voice. "Can't help it."

Dori settled his hand on Bilbo's shoulder, his muscles firm and poised under his once dashing jacket now battered from travel, and gestured for Nori to come close. "Ease his mind, will you." Nori sighed, and scuffed his feet as he came to Bilbo's side. Bilbo smiled up at Nori, which wasn't all that reassuring. Maybe to an Omega Hobbit all those teeth would put him or her at ease, but to a Dwarf, he looked half desert cat. Dori didn't even ask Thorin to come closer. Three out of four wasn't bad though.

The Company, minus Dwalin and Fili, killed the fire and gathered their things before they marched away from the ruined house. Bilbo kept looking back, sniffing the air, and continuing on until at some point he stopped. He let go of Dori, who surreptitiously wiped his sweaty palm on his damp pants, and Bilbo cased the new area. Then he went up to Thorin and nodded. "Good here." He bowed and then trotted away.

Dori wanted to go after him, but did not. He figured the Hobbit would need some time alone.

~~~

Thorin watched the halfling leave, his tail flicking behind him as he rounded a clump of trees and disappeared. The Alpha had flooded the air with his protective scent, and Thorin had to struggle to keep his focus. What an odd creature. Dori was watching after him too, while Nori was leaning in, saying something. Dori shook his head.

Oin didn't seem affected. Oh, to be bonded. 

Thorin squashed down his own Omega reaction. Though Bilbo wasn't a Dwarf, seeing him like that, in full Alpha form, exuding all of those Alpha pheromones, incited a reaction within him that even his dosage of herbs did not quell. A jittery, excited thrill coursed up and down his limbs. His heart rate picked up and danced almost erratically in his chest. It was unnerving. 

When Dwalin and Fili returned, they reported about piles of bones around a cold fire. "Nothing was there, though," Dwalin said. "Trails led away from the camp, but we didn't continue. Something big is out there. Big with a big appetite," Dwalin reported.

Fili held out his hands, holding them a good distance apart. “Footprints, this big. Like Dwarf prints, just... huge.”

“Maybe they just had huge feet, like a Hobbit,” Bofur offered up.

Bilbo didn't return until late that night and almost everyone had gone to sleep. On watch, Bofur perched next to the low fire, whittling on some wood. Thorin had the assumption the poor Alpha had been patrolling, exhausting himself. He snorted to himself. The 'don't go out alone' lecture was probably never needed. 

"Sorry about that," Bilbo said to Bofur, scratching one calf with the toes of his large foot, awkward, like a teenage boy. 

"Don't worry 'bout it, lad." Bofur waved away his concern. "Gotta say, though, you were pretty intimidating." Bilbo scoffed and shook his head, but Bofur nodded vigorously. "Probably tired, yeah? Go, rest yerself."

"Thank you, Bofur," Bilbo said in a low voice, bowing.

The Hobbit searched around for his sleeping mat, which Thorin knew he would find next to Dori. It looked like Dori was accepting the Alpha. It made Thorin… uncomfortable. Nervous almost. He'd have to examine his own reactions to the Alpha. He'd never felt that way about any Dwarf Alpha. Was it because he was a Hobbit? 

Bilbo nestled in next to Dori as Thorin watched from his own sleeping mat next to his nephews. Dori rolled over and reached for Bilbo. Bilbo nestled into his side. Would they start courting on the road? Dori was far too proper to move too quickly. Thorin decided he would just watch them and not interfere. Unless, of course, it posed a danger to the quest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The airing of desires.

Chapter 5

"Trolls!" Bombur asked, nearly toppling the pot of gruel. The usually cheerful, rosy Dwarf went pale.

"Yes," Gandalf said. "A trio of trolls. I helped them reach stone before I found your trail here. Good thing you moved into the hills. That house was uncomfortably close to their camp." He turned an eye on Bilbo. "Quite a good instinct about danger on you, Mr. Baggins. I say a few of us return to find their hoard."

Bilbo shrugged, resting his chin on his palm. "I'm just happy we didn't get attacked by them," he mumbled as he stirred dried jazbay grapes into the gruel. He wanted to add some sugar as well; maybe he could find a honey comb. He snuck a glance at Dori and Thorin. Oranges and cinnamon. How could he find two compatible Omegas among these Dwarves when he hadn't found one in all of the Hobbits of the Shire? Oh confound it. What was he going to do? His inner Baggins said he could be happy with one, but that Took side, heavy with his Alpha instincts, wanted to claim them both. 

"Gandalf, can we…" He gestured for a spot away from the Dwarves and handed the ladle to Bombur. How he hadn't sensed the rotund Dwarf was an Alpha before, he wasn't sure. He could tell them all now, after his Alpha transformation. His previous ignorance was embarrassing, like not knowing the difference between a cable stitch and a treble stitch. A shame!

"Certainly."

Bilbo led them away from the camp for privacy. "Gandalf, I'm in a poor situation here." He pulled at his hair. "There are _two_ ," he pointed back at the camp, "compatible Omegas within the Dwarves. Two! So many years and, and... Nothing!” His hands flew up into the air. “I can't do this. I can't think. I… "

Gandalf patted him, which annoyed Bilbo to no end. "Calm down, Bilbo. Why is this a problem?"

He spun on Gandalf, eyes locked on those of the doddering old Wizard. He clenched his fists before him, nearly vibrating apart with tension. "Because I want them both." It came out more a hiss and Bilbo had to turn away again, scrub his face with his hands. All these pheromones were scattering his good senses. "I'll be dancing around like a breeding pigeon here soon, if I don't control this."

"I heard you were in full transformation last night."

"Yes, I was. And I feel a right fool. I didn't even _see_ a threat and I reacted like that. I nearly attacked Kili, too, who hasn't even presented. I've never done this... Never _felt_ this way. Never lost myself. It's. It's. It's ridiculous!" He waved his arms in the air again and plopped down on a rounded boulder. "Do you have something, like a spell? Or an herb even, that can dull my reactions?"

Gandalf looked down at Bilbo with a well of compassion in his eyes. "I don't, Bilbo. I'm sorry. Perhaps Oin does."

Bilbo nodded. He felt miserable and silly. And a little bit desperate.

A bee buzzed by. Bilbo perked up, eyes following the insect. "If you'll excuse me." He trotted off after the bee.

"Good luck!" Gandalf called out after him.

~~~

The sword was exquisite, even if it was made by Elves. He'd nearly abandoned the blade with that knowledge, but even his own hatred of Elves couldn't outweigh his love of a fine weapon. The curve of it beautiful, the strength of it glorious. It was a weapon to slice through Orc throats and warg bellies. The early afternoon light reflected off the sharp metal.

"Excuse me, Thorin?"

Thorin looked up from his examination. The Hobbit stood before him, a welt on one hand, sticks in his curly hair and a bowl in his hands. Beside Thorin, Dwalin ceased his own whetstone work on his axe.

"What?"

"Breakfast." Bilbo held out one of Bombur's bowls, that Thorin took with some hesitation, and then the halfling, back straight, arms stiff by his sides, let his overly-large feet take him back to the fire. Dwalin grunted.

"What was that?" Thorin asked, sniffing the gruel. It was surprisingly sweet. Oh, berries. Where had the Hobbit found berries?

"Seems the little Alpha's got his nose on Dori _and_ you."

Thorin's heart squeezed, the discomfort lasting solid seconds until it pattered back to its normal pace. He pressed his free fist into the center of his chest. Him? They hadn't really even talked. The Hobbit couldn't court both of them. That was just… 

"Why do you say that?" he asked, as the enticing scent of the gruel brought about a hearty rumble from his stomach. Bombur was an excellent cook, typically, but as a field cook he went more for utilitarian.

"Nobody else got honey." Dwalin grabbed for the spoon in the bowl. Thorin slapped his hand away.

"Honey?" Thorin sniffed again. Yes, honey. "Not even Nori? Or Bifur?"

Dwalin shook his head. "You and Dori." His friend chuckled.

"Both of us?" Thorin looked over at Dori, who was watching Thorin from where he sat with his brothers near a thatch of low bushes. Thorin imagined the same shocked expression on his face that he saw on Dori's. "Why me?"

"Must be the kindness you've shown him." Dwalin snorted and went back to his axe.

Later after a few miles march and they braked for lunch, Bilbo gave the tenderest pheasant portions to Thorin and Dori, with a special peppercorn spiced root on the side. And by dinner, Thorin wondered exactly what the Hobbit would do. Bilbo was busy at the campfire with Bombur, talking over his own little pan. Thorin tapped Dori's shoulder. "Perhaps we should talk."

Dori and Thorin stood together, cloaked in the coming evening, watching Bilbo who seemed unaware of their attention.

"How are you?" he asked Dori, hoping for no animosity from the other Omega.

Beside him, Dori stiffened, his shoulders rising perceptively in defense. "I'm on the herbs, Thorin." The silver-haired Dwarf raised one eyebrow, his tone both scolding and defensive. "Are you?"

"Of course. I mean to say, how do you feel about the Alpha showing us the same attention?"

Dori's shoulders slumped. Dori was a fine Dwarf, proper to a fault, just like the halfling. Perhaps it was because of his parentage and his drive to prove himself. Thorin didn't know. Had Dori passed the years spurning those who would court him to focus on proving himself and providing for his family? Thorin guessed the Dwarf had had no lack of suitors, as handsome has he was. Or was it simply that none of those others carried a scent that heated his nerves like the great smelters of Erebor. Until this Hobbit. 

It was all too familiar. 

"Well, I don't quite know." Dori's gaze darted to Thorin. "I'm, well, a little jealous. But I'm also unsure if I'm misinterpreting something. I'm a little out of my depth."

"As am I. Perhaps we should speak to him."

"Of course, but let's see what he makes us." Dori offered Thorin a mischievous smile and Thorin agreed.

They waited together in a spot a short distance from the fireside until Bilbo completed their elaborate meal. The entire camp was sniffing the air as the dinner smells curled up and around, Bilbo's savory dinner overpowering the stew Bombur was making. "Bilbo, you're giving me a bad reputation, you know," the cook said.

"Well, there isn't enough for everyone. These are just scraps and tidbits I found along the trail today." Bilbo tried to play it off. Nori snorted. Bofur asked he he could have the scraps then. Bilbo ignored them all.

When dinner was ready, Bilbo scooped his concoction onto plates and finally looked around. He stilled when he saw Thorin and Dori sitting together and the rest of the Dwarves watching him. With a dignified air, Bilbo stood to his full height and carried the plates over. On them was sautéed mushrooms and wild onions on campfire bread with a gravy of organ meats with fresh peas and some more of his pickled leaves, which Thorin had sampled earlier and thought rather tasty. 

"Please, enjoy," Bilbo said with a bow. "I have some tea as well. More lapsang, if you'd like."

"I would love some, Bilbo," Dori said. Thorin nodded his own interest. Bilbo brightened and trotted back to the fire.

"When he does that smile…" Dori said.

"It makes you feel good inside," Thorin finished.

The two shared a look. Thorin sighed. What was going on?

~~~

Bilbo brewed the tea, wondering exactly what he would say to his two Omegas. Because, no matter reality, in his Alpha mind, they were his. Both of them. He wanted to provide for them. Make them happy, content. Please them. Mark them with his scent. 

A noise rumbled deep in his chest. A purr. Bombur shook his head with an amused snort. “You've got it bad, poor lad.” Bombur teased. Oh fiddlesticks. Bilbo was in a bind.

He brought two mugs over to Dori and Thorin, trying hard not to inhale, catch their scent, fall into it and present his colors. He would not rut. He was in control. Cherry blossoms, he'd need to talk to Oin.

"Bilbo, stay. Join us," Dori said.

"We would like to talk to you," Thorin added.

Bilbo perched on a stone across from the two Dwarves, back to the fire, pressed his lips together and nodded. "Of course. You probably want to know…” his hands entwined themselves in his lap, “what I'm up to?"

"Yes, we do," Dori said, sipping the tea. His eyebrows rose in appreciation. "Delicious."

Bilbo grinned and the two Omegas stilled, and then their bodies slowly relaxed. Without trying to whiff the air, Bilbo now caught hints of the cinnamon and oranges twining together. The smoke and oak. He sighed and resisted laying his head in their laps. If he pushed them together, sitting thigh by thigh, he could probably do it. Logistically.

"Thank you. It's one of my favorites. I've also brought some white berry and green mint."

"Bilbo," Thorin interrupted. Bilbo's mouth suddenly went dry. "Are you courting us? Both of us?"

Caught. "Umm, well… you see."

"Because, Bilbo," Dori continued, tone steady. "That's not… typical. Dwarves only mate to one other."

"Oh, I know,” he rushed out. “It's not normal amongst Hobbits either. It's just…" He decided to pull his pigs from the stock pen. "When you first arrived, I could whiff an Omega amongst you. The scent… well, for Hobbits, you just know when you find a compatible Omega through scent. I wasn't sure who it was… I wasn't even sure who was an Omega. Eventually… I realized it was both of you.” His voice became more animated. “You must understand, I haven't whiffed _any_ compatible Omegas in my entire life. None. But then you walk through my front door and I'm... totally undone. Both of you are compatible and…" he scratched the bee sting on his hand, "I—I...." He looked up, eyes huge, beseeching. “I will be good to you! You'll never want for anything. I can ple—please you, in any way.” His face felt hot. “I—I , you see, I want you both.”

Neither of his Omegas reacted. Bilbo pressed his lips together, pulled his shoulders back, and waited.

Thorin took a bite of the sauce covered bread. His eyebrows lifted. Oh, he must like it! The king chewed and swallowed. "You want us both. But,” Thorin paused, blue eyes locked onto Bilbo's, “what if we don't want you."

Bilbo stared at him. What? That just couldn't be. Talk fast, Bilbo! "I shan't force you into anything. It's the whole point of courting isn't it? To prove I can provide for you as you see fit."

"But we don't need to be … well, taken care of," Dori said, eating his dinner as well. "Hmm, quite good."

Bilbo beamed in delight. Again, the two Dwarves seemed to go still, eyes widening just a little, then they tore their gazes away, staring at their dinner plates. 

"Thank you, Dori! And yes, I know you don't need to be coddled or protected or treated as a helpless possession like Men do to their Omegas. I – I am running on instinct." He twined his hands together. "It contents me to do things for you. It delights me to make you smile." He looked from one Omega to the other, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I know this is all complicated, but, maybe, we could try? You could accept my advances and we can play this out. At least until we reach our destination."

"Have you considered," Dori said delicately, "that we might not wish to share you with the other?"

"Um, well. I wasn't sure what to do about that." Honestly, he hadn't considered it. He'd only considered that he must win them over. He never thought of their reactions to this. What a stupid, selfish Hobbit. He needed a wall to bang his head against.

Bilbo lost himself in Dori's warm brown eyes, then shifted his gaze to Thorin's Durin blue. Both were unreadable. "All I can do is be honest and tell you what I want. I'd like to try this… and after a time, we can perhaps come to a decision together?" He hadn't meant it to be a question, but it was nonetheless. "I want to get to know both of you. Find out what you enjoy, or don't, for that matter." To make them laugh with joy and cry out with pleasure. Bilbo shivered.

"Bilbo, perhaps you can leave us a moment. We need to discuss this between ourselves," Dori said. 

Bilbo popped up to his feet and bowed, ready to relieve himself of their scrutiny. "Of course. I'll be near if you need me."

"Why don't you go eat, halfling," Thorin said. And Bilbo decided that was a very good idea.

~~~ 

Bilbo bypassed Bombur and his dinner to have a very important chat with the healer. "If you've a moment, Oin?" Bilbo asked loudly to the deaf Dwarf, but hopefully not so loudly to gain eavesdroppers like cheatgrass seeds.

Oin frowned up at him, his bushy eyebrows quivering. He was probably worried that Bilbo was going to go all weird on him. Bilbo sighed. "I was wondering if…" he glanced around at the other Dwarves. Most appeared to be occupied with eating their stew, but he knew what busy bodies these Dwarves were. As bad as Hobbits, really. He lowered his voice, "You might have something for Alphas? To halt our, ah, urges?"

"Are you going into rut, laddie?" Oin asked as loud as could be, and Bilbo wanted to slink away and hide under a pile of leaves.

He shook his head and spoke louder. "No, not at all. But, well, last night…" He'd gone bestial. And possessive.

Oin pondered for a moment then shook his head. "Can't say I have anything for that. I could mute a rut, though." He fished around in his bag and gave a sachet to Bilbo. It smelled vaguely sulfuric. "That should do you. It's a tincture. Treat it like a tea." Bilbo took the herbal pouch with a sigh. It wouldn't cure his problem, he didn't think anyway. But he would keep it, just in case.

He thanked Oin and grabbed a bowl of stew for himself, not really tasting the meal.

~~~

"Well, this will be difficult. But his cooking is amazing." Dori nibbled another mushroom off his fork. "How does he do this with so little provisions?"

Dori filled the air with conversation, waiting for Thorin to voice his opinion. Dori wanted to be jealous that Thorin was now receiving Bilbo's attentions, but to be honest, Bilbo hadn't given him much cause for jealousy yet. Dori definitely liked the smaller male. He was polite and had good taste in tea. His cooking was a sending from the Valar. His home was well tended and full of beautifully crafted things. Dori raised an eyebrow at Thorin. "Your thoughts?" he finally urged.

"I don’t know. I'm thinking." Thorin was watching Bilbo, his food practically forgotten. "If I let myself give into this, I'm not sure I could handle having another Omega inside our partnership."

Dori's stomach soured just the slightest. So, Thorin was a contender. 

"I was wondering about that myself,” Dori said. “But I thought about it and how it made me feel when he started showing you the same attention, and I realized, I'm not that jealous. A little, but... Well, he'd probably run himself ragged attending to us both before neglecting one of us. Which, is bad…."

"I'm older; I should let you have him." Thorin finally began eating. He cut part of the bread off with the side of his fork and ate it.

Dori straightened his spine. "Thorin, that is no reason for you to deny this."

With a hmm of pleasure, Thorin swallowed and said, "It's reason enough."

"If I wasn't in the picture, would you pursue him?"

"I don’t know. Like I said, I have to consider many aspects of this entire situation, including my own desires and emotions, and how the quest and Erebor fit in. This has happened rather quickly. I don't want to be rash." 

"Well, my king." Dori swallowed. It came as a bit of a surprise to realize he had made his own decision. "You should know, I intend to see this through. Perhaps we are not as compatible as Bilbo thinks, but I like him… I'm drawn to him enough to give it a chance. I've never felt this way about any Dwarf I've met, no matter the status. And, I would let you know, you are welcome within this… pursuit. Just remember how he makes you feel, and think about a life without that."

Thorin raised his brows. "Thank you for your frankness. Do continue as you would. I shall bow out."

Dori shook his head, though his sensibilities thought it best. You simply couldn't have three people mated.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo gets a chance to kick ass and a little relaxation afterward.

**Chapter 6**

The Company marched across boulder littered hills that rolled like waves over land to a split in their path. Their steps were steady, heads up. The bright sun hung high in the sky. It felt a blessing to have dried out, the lush green grasses no longer saturating their pants. Gloin led the way through the hills and nobody dared speak to their king. Thorin's anger burned at the meddling Wizard and his own agenda.

"Why do you insist on dragging us to the realm of the Elves?" Thorin demanded.

"We need Elrond to look at your map. Oh, curse the stubbornness of Dwarves.” Gandalf threw his hands in the air, his impatience obvious. “Would you think with reason? There is hidden writing on your map."

"You trust the word of a halfling?" Thorin planted his feet at the crossroads, a scowl so dark even the brilliant day couldn't banish its thunder. One dirt road curved off to the northeast, the other, narrower, continued east.

Gandalf sputtered, indigent, shaking his head. The others of the party kept well away from the argument, avoiding eye contact and muttering quietly amongst themselves. "Thorin, do not treat my burglar like that. He is a learned scholar and knows more about writing and scribe craft then you could ever guess. We must go to Rivendell."

Thorin's nostrils flared as he readied to continue the argument, when the terror-spawning cry of a warg cut across the wind. Tension flooded Thorin's body. He slid his sword from its sheath in one smooth motion. It really was a superb weapon, even if Elves had crafted it. Around him, the Company armed themselves, weapons poised, senses on alert. Dwalin stepped closer to Thorin's back, axes raised. 

“Who did you tell!” Gandalf demanded. 

Thorin narrowed his eyes, then ignored the old Wizard. Every Dwarf in Middle-earth knew of his quest, the story had to have spread to others by now. "Take cover!" Thorin roared, his eyes quickly counting the group and was relieved to see Fili and Kili nearby, Kili's bow at the ready. Next he found Bilbo, close to Dori and Ori. That was good too. 

They hid from the warg scout, each of the members tucked under and between the huge misplaced boulders that disrupted the landscape. A warg crawled up on a stone ledge, sniffing the air. Thorin held his breath, his body taking on a calm that had always settled in his bones pending a battle. A snarl dripped from the warg's throat. Surely, it would catch the scent of 12 unwashed Dwarves, plus a Hobbit and a Wizard. Thorin gripped his sword, ready to set it to business, hands steady, when Kili darted out from his rock and shot the warg in the chest. Another arrow through the eye. The Orc atop it cried a warning before Kili's third arrow took the Orc through the throat.

"Follow me." Gandalf lifted his longsword and charged for another pile of stones. They had lost the roads when they'd scattered and Thorin had gotten turned around. Cursing, he followed the long legged Wizard. Bombur huffed at his side, his pack rattling about on his back, and Thorin slowed, making sure the Alpha wasn't going to fall behind. His breath beat through his lungs as he dodged from rock pile to rock pile. In the distance, the yips and howls chased their flight. In the corner of his eye, Thorin caught Gloin go down on one knee, only to have Bifur grab his arm and yank him to his feet. From a small hill of piled stones Gandalf hailed them, and his Company disappeared one by one within the grouping of rocks. At the rock formation, Bilbo pushed Dori into a crevasse. Dori cried out in frustration has he tumbled beyond Thorin's vision. Bilbo had transformed. His tail whipped through the air as he waited for Thorin, huge eyes zipping around. His mouth was open, giving Thorin flashes of his sharp canines. Balin disappeared between the rocks. Then Ori. Kili stood by Bilbo's side, hailing arrows down upon the Orcs and their mounts. 

"Go!" Thorin roared, as he and Bombur charged toward the final cluster of Gandalf, Bilbo and Kili. A warg snuck around a boulder behind the three. It crouched, preparing to pounce. Thorin cried out, readied his sword to throw at the beast before it tackled Kili and Bilbo. But Bilbo was already twisting, his tail keeping his balance as his body spun through the air to land upon the brown warg. The beast howled, bending to nip at the Hobbit upon its back. Frenzied, Bilbo clawed and bit at the warg's thick coat around its neck and throat. The pelt oozed pink, then red. The Alpha dug his nails up under its jaw and grabbed the beast's esophagus. Anchoring himself to the neck with one hand, Bilbo yanked and yanked, his entire body working to tear away the animal's throat. A horrible gurgle tore from the beast's neck and the warg went limp. Bilbo jumped off of it, crouched, searched for another threat. His arm dripped with blood. His body was coated in it.

"By Mahal," Bombur huffed out before he tumbled down the hidden tunnel.

Thorin was stunned at the amazing physical display. "Get down there," he commanded, tearing his attention away from the blood-coated Alpha Hobbit to assure no other wargs were going to attack his Company. 

"Thorin, go. He won't leave without you safe first," Gandalf called out. And cursing under his breath, Thorin grabbed his nephew and they threw themselves down a long tunnel.

~~~

Seeing Bilbo covered in blood, all bestial and predatory, defending him and his own, stirred something within Thorin. It wasn't exactly a feeling of desire, but that was as close as he could compare it to. It was more primal.

"Damn it." He would not go in heat over some blood splattered little Hobbit. Purely ridiculous. Yet, when Dori sprinted up to Bilbo, who was all teeth and claws, and stopped short at the gore and ruined clothing, only to finally throw his arms about Bilbo, Thorin had to turn away.

~~~

"Dori. Dori. I'm okay." Bilbo's mind and body slowly retreated from his Alpha form and he could finally enunciate full words, thank the dickens for that. Every set of eyes watched him. But that mattered little because Dori was in his arms, fussing over him. "Not my blood." 

Dori leaned back, his own beautiful vest and shirt now ruined by warg blood. His eyes flickered over Bilbo's body, from toes to the tips of his ears, measuring, cataloging potential ills. Bilbo purred deep in his throat. Then Dori leaned forward and, though Bilbo was covered in gore, he cradled Bilbo's face in his hands and kissed him.

Bilbo lost his brain. Completely. He hadn't expected such a reaction from _Dori_ , let alone so soon in their acquaintance. _And_ in front of the entire Company and some elves. With blood on his mouth. Not that Bilbo minded. He eagerly returned the kiss, wrapping his arms around the taller male's shoulders, pulling him down just a little so he could get the right angle. Scent filled the air. He swiped his tongue along Dori's lips, which opened eagerly, and soon all semblance of propriety fled for safer fields as the two tasted and moaned and worshiped in front of all and sundry.

And it was divine. His Omega had accepted him. His suit was answered. A needy noise rumbled in his chest and his face heated up. Bilbo knew he'd be presenting colors soon. His peacock phase. _Oh, please don't go into rut. Please don’t go into rut._ Bilbo's heart soared the heavens. Eventually Dori slowed the kiss and Bilbo registered catcalls whooping all around them. Someone was clapping. 

"You're face." Dori ran a thumb over Bilbo's gore covered cheek. "You've swatches of color on your cheeks. Reds this time. And gold."

Bilbo wanted to duck down and hide, but he had nothing to be embarrassed about. Other than the very public nature of it all. Oh heavens ta betsy. "It's normal. It's... " he leaned in close, words hidden from the others, "I'm excited. Peacocking we call it. Trying to show you how pretty I am. Silly, really. What our bodies do." And here he stood, wrapped up in the arms of the prettiest Dwarf of them all.

Dori laughed, light and bubbly, and rubbed the blood from the lines of Bilbo's cheekbones. "It's different from when you've gone all feral."

"Well of course. That's to warn away a threat. This is to entice you closer." He waggled his eyebrows, and his prim and proper Dori chuckled. Bilbo wanted to pull him tight against his body, feel every inch of his Dwarf against him.

"Break it up, break it up," Dwalin said. "You're making the lads uncomfortable."

Kili piped up, "I'm not uncomfortable."

"Fine, you're making me uncomfortable. Time to go meet the elves anyway. And Bilbo, I'd like to hear how you got all bloody."

"He tore apart a warg. With his bare hands," Kili announced, voice big and proud. Bilbo tried to hide again against Dori's side. Oh fiddlesticks, he doubted they would forget this anytime soon.

Dwalin nodded in approval. "All right. I'd wish I'd seen it, but I'll accept it. Good for you, laddie." He slapped Bilbo on the back, making him stumble deeper into Dori's arms, but Dori kept a hold of him so Bilbo didn't mind.

The elven escort took them before Elrond, who appraised Bilbo and his coating of dried blood before he addressed Gandalf. "Gandalf, it has been some years." He faced Thorin and nodded in greeting. "And Thorin, son of Thrain. My halls are honored."

"As am I for your welcome," Thorin said, standing stiff and aloof. 

The Wizard turned to face Thorin, raising a questioning eyebrow. Thorin, though sporting a great and grumpy expression, nodded once. A kind of surrender. "We would like to show you something," Gandalf said, "if you've a moment. Something with hidden runes, we believe."

Elrond's eyebrow popped up, them he nodded once. "Certainly. Why don't you and your party clean up, and we can discuss your runes before dinner."

Ori cheered, "Food!" A number of other Dwarves grumbled in uncertainty at the offer.

A blond Elf in loose flowing robes led them to a hall. All around, elven voices carried through the halls, singing silly songs as the Dwarves trudged by. Their escort smirked, shaking his head. Bilbo almost wanted to feel affronted at the implied teasing, but something as transitional as a song couldn't tear his joy away. They finally arrived at a hallway, lined with doors off an open atrium. "Please, take these rooms during your stay. You can find bathing chambers at the far end," the elf said and retreated from the gathering of Dwarves in quick steps. 

"Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" Dori said, still holding onto Bilbo's arm. Bilbo was beaming. His cheeks hurt he smiled so hard. A buzzing, close to intoxication, filled his brain and the air hung heavy with the scent of his delight. Dori lead him to the baths at the far end of the hall as the other Dwarves picked out rooms. There were eight in all, so some had to share. 

The chamber held a series of pools, blues and turquoise and aquamarine. Tiles in sea greens and spring greens and the light green of vine maple leaves covered the floor and walls creating a kaleidoscope of color. Three pools were steaming, three others simply shimmered in the lamplight. Taps reached along the wall above a line of benches for one to sit upon and scrub the grime and travel sweat from one's body. Bilbo wanted out of his nasty clothes, but his Omega stood so close, so near, and Bilbo could smell him even though he wasn't whiffing the air. Bilbo brushed his hands across his jacket front, his now normal nails catching on flakes of dried blood.

"Let's get you out of these clothes."

Bilbo gasped, scandalized. "But… But, we can't… We're courting. We can't be…"

"Oh, pish posh, Bilbo," Dori said with a flip of his hand. "We've seen each other in our all togethers before, nothing to be done about it. You're covered in filth and you need to clean up. I promise to behave myself." Dori held a hand over his heart. "I'll be a complete gentleman." 

Bilbo puffed out his chest, trying to keep from grinning. "If you promise."

"I do." Dori bowed solemnly. 

"Well, of any of these Dwarves here, it is you I trust the most to be a gentleman." Bilbo bowed in return and earned another cheerful smile from Dori.

Delight and joy fluttered in Bilbo's chest. He wanted to make Dori smile all the time.

So, Bilbo, back turned to his Omega, began to peel himself out of his stiff and gore-caked clothing. It amounted to a sad loss, really. He hoped the articles could be salvaged. With the loss of this weskit, trousers and linen shirt, he'd only have two other sets of clothing. It was his best weskit too. He tried not to pout. Maybe he could salvage some of it. 

Naked, he peeked over his shoulder at Dori, who had also stripped and was piling his folded clothing away from the pools. Bilbo let his eyes skim over the Dwarf, his stocky body, sturdy and solid, his slim and sexy feet, furred chest and belly. It wasn't entirely his fault if he lingered on Dori's rump, firm and round and Bilbo's mouth began to salivate with dreams of heats and ruts. With valarian effort he held his body in stiff composure, fighting against the need to race over, bury his face in Dori's silver pelt. Run his fingers through it. Lick across his chest. Slather Dori in his scent.

Mark him as Bilbo's.

His cock began to fill. "Oh bugger." Bilbo tore his eyes away, eyes roaming the ceiling, the walls, anywhere but at Dori. He pressed down on his traitorous erection to hide it from view. "I’m sorry. I—"

Dori chuckled and Bilbo's erection surged at the throaty sound. "Oh, don't fuss about it, Bilbo," Dori said. "Come, sit on the bench here and we'll scrub you clean."

The two settled themselves on a bench, Bilbo as self-conscious as a tween in his first rut, and were soon joined by Kili and Fili as they charged in, clothing flying to the left and right. "Scrub yourself first, before you filth up the water," Dori scolded the lads from where he was scrubbing Bilbo's back, who sat hunched over, desperate for some privacy.

"Will you scrub our backs too, Dori?" Kili asked, strutting towards them in nothing but his underthings. Bilbo appraised the other Alpha and didn't approve of what he saw. His build mirrored Dori's, far more sturdy and strong than Bilbo. Definition highlighted his abs under the hair across his lower belly, and the hair upon his chest, though not as thick as Dori's, was still alluring for the Dwarven physique. 

Dori made a pushing motion with his hand towards Kili. "No. Shoo you. You two scrub each other's backs."

Having Kili and Fili there did wonders to Bilbo's libido, and soon his penis and flashing cheeks behaved as they should. He scrubbed at his face and his arms with a lemony soap, and then returned the favor of washing Dori's broad back. With long strokes, he brought the cloth over Dori's shoulders, caressing his skin. Bilbo leaned forward, inhaling, catching hints of his Omega scent. Dori had a long scar on his side that Bilbo traced with his finger, causing Dori to shiver.

"What happened here?"

"Oh, nothing much. Just a wound that long ago healed. From my rambunctious youth."

Bilbo laughed. He'd love to know more about Dori's rambunctious youth, but more and more Dwarves entered the bath. By now Bilbo and Dori, Fili and Kili had relocated to the steaming hot pool. Bilbo sank down to his nose.

"Oh, this is divine," Fili said, floating his tiny feet up to the surface.

"The baths in Erebor are piped into natural hot springs like these." Everyone in the pool looked up to see Thorin standing at the edge, a towel wrapped around his waist. Scars covered his body and even a few tattoos hid under his own dark covering of fur.

Bilbo wanted to roll all around in that pelt, too. Oh, cherry blossoms.

"Will you join us, Thorin?" Dori asked. Bilbo's ears twitched and he hoped Thoin would. Hoped. Wished. Had his fingers crossed.

"If you don't mind."

"Oh, of course not." The two Omegas exchanged a nod, and Thorin dropped his towel—Bilbo did _not_ stare—and joined them in the hot pool. Bilbo really wanted to wiggle his way between them, one Omega on either side, surround himself with their smell and touch. But he stayed put on Dori's other side. He didn't want to come across as a lecher. Even with desire mining through his veins he had more pride and refinement than that. More Dwarves joined the five and soon they were all shoulder to shoulder in the pool. 

Oin slid through the water to Bilbo. "Let me look at you."

Bilbo tensed. "Why?" he asked uncertainly.

"You took on a warg, so I was told. Let me see if you'd hurt yourself." Oin began fussing over Bilbo, so he let himself be turned around and poked and squeezed. Bilbo took a certain amount of joy in having an Omega, even a bonded one, fret over him. "You seem fine."

"I am fine! And now, I've got to get out. I'm afraid I'll never dry out again if I stay much longer." Bilbo's skin had taken on a definite prunish texture. Dori made to follow Bilbo out of the pool. "Oh, don’t leave on my account. Enjoy yourself." His smiled at his Omega, whose eyes softened at the edges, and he gave Bilbo a nod as he settled back down in the steaming pool. Dwarves seemed to have a higher tolerance to hot water. And cold. And walking. And heat. Really, it wasn't fair.

Bilbo wrapped a towel around his body and wandered about the bathing chamber, looking for a place to scrub out his clothes. He decided to dump them in a small tub with some soap to soak and hope for the best. He'd need some lye and baking soda. He left for the bedrooms, looking for his pack and hoping a room was still available. His pack had been stowed in a room farthest from the bathing chamber, near the communal atrium. He flopped down on the bed and sank into the soft mattress, and without putting much effort into it, slipped into slumber.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time spent in Rivendell.

Chapter 7

Thorin dressed himself in his more regal clothing, which was less filthy and travel worn then his leather travel gear. All the proper braids were set in his hair and beard. In the hopes that Elrond could shed some light onto his sword's craftsman, Thorin had strapped it to his belt. Might as well use the Elf's expertise since he was there. Strolling out into the communal gathering room, Thorin waited for Gandalf, Balin and Bilbo. Couches and chairs, low tables and lamps, made the room somewhat cozy, even if the glass ceiling arched high above them. Plants grew from pots and holes in the flooring, making the atrium feel like part of the outdoors. Balin wandered up, also dressed as smartly as possible for a displaced people on the road, his beard brushed and glistening after a wash. At one of the low tables surrounded by a set of comfortable chairs, Oin held Gloin's ankle in his lap, wrapping it tight with some linen gauze. 

"Where's Bilbo?" Balin asked.

Thorin scowled. "Still in his room, probably fussing over his handkerchief." 

"He forgot them." 

"Hmm?"

"His handkerchiefs," Balin said. "He forgot them all. Bofur ripped off a pocket for the poor little fellow to blow his nose on."

Thorin took in this information with more interest than it really merited. Gandalf arrived, his pointed hat perched smartly on his head. Thorin took a little appeasement to see the hem of his gray robes was stained from travel. "Shall we, then?" Gandalf asked.

"What about Bilbo. Didn't he want to show Elrond his sword as well?" Thorin asked. Plus, he might have more to add about the map and its hidden runes, though Thorin wasn't about to state that boldly for the Wizard to gloat over.

"Oh, the lad's possibly dozed off. Why don't you go collect him, Thorin?"

Thorin sighed and knew this was some ploy by Gandalf's to thrust him and Bilbo together. He stomped in his heavy boots to Bilbo's door and rapped his knuckles against the wood.

"Mrum. Huh. Wha--?"

"Bilbo. We're meeting Elrond. Bring your sword."

"Oh! Huh? Fiddlesticks. One moment please. I – I fell asleep!"

Thorin took in a patient breath, and returned to wait with the others until Bilbo rushed from his room, buttoning down his ornate blue vest, letter opener strapped to his waist. He smiled apologetically at them, gaze lingering on Thorin, and fussed over his hair, which had dried to disarray. "Ready." Bilbo bowed, his smile softening for Thorin. Thorin tore his eyes away and followed Gandalf. 

"Have you seen anything so wonderful?" Bilbo said with awe, head swiveling as he stared at this plant or that mural. The Hobbit stretched his neck to look at every nook and cranny, turning constantly as he studied the Last Homely House, greeting elves as they passed.

"Wait until we reach Erebor. Then you shall be amazed," Thorin said. "The halls are vast, the carvings of a detail only possible by our venerable masters. Gold and gems decorate the receiving halls and gathering places, marking the wealth of the Dwarves." 

Gandalf chuckled. Thorin resisted tripping the muttering old fool.

They passed through halls with flickering lanterns. Moths fluttered around the flames and elf song carried through the evening air. Thorin grumbled at the lilting language, too delicate. Too ephemeral. 

When they reached the garden, Elrond posed a formidable picture with his tall stature and his elven grace. The Elf stood near a small alabaster altar in a moon viewing garden. Though a weak breeze ghosted through the garden, his robes flowed around him with near intention. The Elf's eyes were piercing, as if they could bore into you and find out all of your secrets, both your desires and fears. It was said he had a touch of foresight. He immediately put Thorin on edge.

"Shall we look at these runes, then?" Elrond asked.

"Before that, what can you tell us about these weapons, Lord Elrond?" Gandalf said, holding out his own. "We found them in a Troll horde."

Elrond lifted the sword to the light, reading the ancient language scrawled on the hilt. "These are no weapons of Trolls or Orcs. Elves made these. This is Glamdring, Foe-hammer that the King of Gondolin once wore." He returned the sword to Gandalf then took up Thorin's. "And this is Orcrist. Goblin cleaver. The two are brothers." With a tilt to his head, he held out the sword for Thorin to take. "Both shall serve you well."

"And Bilbo's sword?" Thorin asked, gesturing for the halfling to come forth with his own weapon.

Bilbo shuffled forward, obviously in awe of the tall Elf, and held aloft his dagger. Elrond took it up and examined it. "Another fine work. Not so well known as the other two, this has no name. But it will not fail you." Elrond returned it, studying Bilbo. Thorin wanted to step between the two. 

"And now," Elrond said, "shall we look at this map. Gandalf tells me, Master Baggins, you believe there to be hidden runes on it."

Bilbo pulled down the hem of his vest, a habit, it seemed to Thorin, when the halfling was feeling his pride. "It seems plausible, Lord Elrond. I've seen such things before. With a large empty space, it's practically telling its own secret."

Thorin handed over the map and listened as the elf spoke about the age of the map and its craftsmanship. Bilbo agreed and the two nattered on about fine drawings and art. Thorin shifted his weight to his other leg. This could take a while. 

"Yes, I see it here. This area," Elrond turned towards Bilbo, a smile gracing his lips, "definitely has moon-letters. It seems they will be visible in... hmm, four more nights. A crescent moon. You were wise to catch this, Bilbo."

"Thank you, sir." Bilbo dipped his head, pleased with himself. 

"So, we are to stay here for five more days then?" Thorin asked.

"And while here, please enjoy our hospitality.” Elrond tilted his head as if he was bestowing a great honor to Thorin and his Company. Thorin tightened his jaw and tilted his head in return. There, let the leaf-eater be honored by _our_ presence! Thorin mentally muttered.

Bilbo bobbed on his feet. "Do you mind if I spend some time in your library?"

Elrond laughed, the sound deep. "You are welcome in my library, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire. Now, shall we attend to dinner?"

They retired to a large open aired room with long tables spread out, laden with foods of all kinds. Elven servers came and went, pouring wine and water into goblets. Elrond gestured for them to sit at the head table. Thorin took a seat next to Gandalf. The rest of the Company were already seated at a table below theirs. Bilbo made to join the other Dwarves when Gandalf said, "Bilbo, please, stay with us. I am sure you'll enjoy talking to Elrond's sons, Elladan and Elrohir, and perhaps they can inform you on the books in the library."

"Oh, well I am honored to join you at the head table." Bilbo bowed, his cultured Hobbit nature naturally coming through.

Gandalf lifted his glass to be poured. “The red, there, please,” he said to the serving Elf, who poured him red wine from a carafe. Bilbo pulled out the chair beside Thorin and gave him a delighted expression, briefly reaching out and touching his hand. Thorin felt himself return the smile, until an Elf planted himself next to Bilbo and leaned forward to catch the gesture. 

“Hello, I am Elrohir. It is a pleasure.”

“Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins. The pleasure is mine. And this,” Bilbo gestured to Thorin, “is Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain.”

Thorin nearly puffed out in pride at hearing Bilbo announce him, but swallowed down the pleasure and nodded in greeting. Keeping to himself, Thorin let the Elf and Bilbo fill the air with their chatter about languages and writing and tales Thorin had heard of but didn't know by heart. With half an ear to Elrond and Gandalf, Thorin listened more attentively to Bilbo and Elrohir. 

Elrond asked about their quest, which Gandalf diverted with skill. Thorin looked around at the table for something to add to his plate. Bilbo handed him a platter with roasted potatoes on it. It smelled delicious, sautéed onions with the savory scent of rosemary, so he added some to his plate. Then came a platter of fish, and baked apples and a line of things that all pleased Thorin's taste buds.

Gandalf leaned over, tapping Thorin's plate with his own fork. "I see Bilbo is taking care of you."

Thorin stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"Making sure you are able to try things you would like. He's proving he can provide."

Thorin surveyed the rest of the table and saw bowls and platters of things he most certainly wouldn't have been interested in. One of beets, another of something green and leafy. These dishes were on Bilbo's own plate, so he obviously hadn't been passing everything onto Thorin. Thorin teetered between touched and frustrated. He'd relinquished any interest to Dori. Why was the fool still trying to gain them both? 

Though, maybe it was just an Alpha instinct and he didn't realize his own actions.

Bilbo turned on him, eyes wide in surprise. "Is everything alright, Thorin?"

"Yes, thank you." What else could he say? He found it very difficult to scold Bilbo for being kind, and in front of the Elves at that. "This potato dish is excellent."

Bilbo's brilliant smile clenched at Thorin's heart. "I thought you would like it! The caramelized onions just burst in your mouth, don't they?" And then the conversation turned to food and cooking and childhood favorites and Thorin found himself forgetting to be worried about it at all.

~~~

Dori couldn't help the disappointment, and a little bit of jealousy, when Bilbo did not sit with him at dinner. Dori knew he was better than that, this jealousy and sense of uncertainty. With soothing breathes and some stout tea, he steadied his nerves, though he couldn't stop casting glances up at the head table where Bilbo was laughing with the elf sitting next to him, Thorin to his right scowling at his plate. Oh Thorin. What a bull-headed, old-fashioned martyr. Dori wanted to pull him aside and pound into his head that really, Bilbo did want them both and really, Dori could share.

Well, he thought he could share, anyway. He figured he might get jealous if Bilbo gave all of his attention to Thorin, but so far he was attentive to them both.

Just, he didn't feel like sharing so much with the Elves.

"Dori, would you like some fish? It's lemony, I think you'd like it." Ori held out a platter and Dori thanked his littlest brother. Obviously he was letting his emotions show. 

Dori ate his food, cooking up ideas to find more time with Bilbo while at Rivendell. Though not of proud dwarven design, the elven city allowed for many walks and appeared to have quiet nooks in which a pair of Dwarves, or a Dwarf and Hobbit, could get to know each other better.

Oh dear, did he just think that? Dori felt his cheeks. Warm. Oh, he was being a silly Omega. He'd never felt this way around any Dwarf Alphas, why was Bilbo different? Maybe Bilbo was right, they were compatible. Maybe they were even meant for each other.

All three of them.

When dinner was over, Bilbo immediately trotted over to Dori and reached for his hand. Dori let him hold it and they walked towards the suite of rooms the Elves had lent them. 

"I was going to go check out the library, Dori. Would you like to come with me?"

Dori felt a sunburst of joy in his chest. "Yes, that would be lovely."

The two wandered off, earning some cat-calls from Nori and Bofur. Dori didn't care. They passed gardens and pools; fountains rested at nearly every corner. Elves would not at them, and Bilbo nodded back, saying something in the elven language.

"What is it you are saying?" Dori asked.

Bilbo squeezed his hand. "I really only know a few greetings in Sindarin. I'm just saying hello. I hope to learn the language. Just need a teacher and time." Dori considered teaching Bilbo Khuzdûl one day, and shuffled that thought to the back of his mind. Better than the language of Elves, certainly. He'd have to get Thorin's permission... but if they did bond, it was Dori's right to teach his mate their secrets.

They passed under a curved archway, the wood carved to resemble the trunks of young, wispy trees, into a large library. Bilbo gasped, his face an open window to his delight. Dori gazed at him, his heart flittering around at the Hobbit's joy. If he could see Bilbo this happy all the time, he too could be a happy Dwarf.

He and Bilbo wandered the lines of books, tall stacks holding some books beyond the reach of both individuals. An Elf in long flowy fabrics approached them. "May I help you find something?" Dori tensed, ready to tell the Elf off, but Bilbo nodded.

"Do you have books on poetry or heroic tales? Well, of course you must." Bilbo grinned and the Elf grinned back. Dori relaxed. Bilbo had such a way with all kinds of people. "Could you please show them to us?"

"Of course, please follow me." The Elf strode, away, not too fast, and the two followed her while she explained the various sections of the vast library.

Bilbo skimmed over the titles of the books the Elf had led them to. Dori pulled one from the shelf, saw that it was some elven poetry in a language he couldn't read. Disappointed, he slipped it back between the other texts.

"Oh, here's one." Bilbo cradled a large book in his arms and bowed deeply at Dori. "If you would please join me, Mister Dori."

Dori laughed, then coughed to cover the noise. "Of course, Mister Baggins." He bowed at the waist. Bilbo led them to a bench overlooking a garden filled with columnar basalt and large leafed plants. In the corner a granite fountain gurgled. Side by side they sat as Bilbo recited mannish poetry to him, love sonnets and poems of valor. Bilbo's voice carried with it emotions Dori couldn't tease out. He orated evenly, but added the proper inflections to show pain and happiness.

"And she cried for her Dorian  
His boat slipping though waters gray,  
and her heart fell still as the  
Yuli bay in winter's frozen core."

Bilbo's shimmering hazel eyes glanced up at Dori through his lashes, his lips parted, and something in his expression tore at Dori's own heart, that was anything but still. He slid the book from Bilbo's hold and placed it on the bench. He took up Bilbo's hands and kissed the backs of them and each knuckle. Bilbo gasped, eyes wide and cheeks pink. Heat flushed through Dori. The sensation was familiar but new. He squeezed the smaller hands cradled within his own. 

"That was beautiful, Bilbo."

"It was terribly sad," he said. "But I'm happy you enjoyed it."

They returned to their wing after that, perching together on a bench in the communal room, Bilbo telling him of other poems he'd enjoyed, though mainly of elven make. Balin joined their circle of seating, then Bombur, who brought with him a plate of biscuits he'd gathered from the kitchens. The others of the Company in attendance kept to their own recreation. 

“Rolfi and Werel is my favorite love tragedy,” Balin said, a far away expression telling of a deep history with the work. “How Werel courted her Omega, but he was driven to find the greatest courting gift for her and died in his quest.”

“Oh, that one is sad,” Bombur said around his cookie. “I can't do the sad ones anymore, but my wife surely loves them.”

"We've many heart-breaking love poems," Dori explained. "Separated lovers, torn apart by death. One of the pair waiting in Mahal's Halls for their love to join them. The living one walking through a life no longer cherished, hoping for his own death."

Bilbo watched his feet as he kicked them through the air. "It would be a terrible thing to be torn away from your love," he said quietly enough that Dori had to lean forward to hear all of his words. 

There was a sad certainty to the Hobbit's statement. Dori took up Bilbo's hand. Bilbo's eyes reflected the shifting candlelight. Dori leaned over, waited for Bilbo to pull away, but instead the Hobbit leaned forward and they kissed. Not the heated desperation of before, but a quiet sharing of understanding and love.

"Hey, hey. None of that here," Dwalin groused. Balin chuckled. "We've impressionable eyes! Dori, what about sweet little Ori?"

"I don't mind," Ori said, not even lifting his nose from his own book, but by then the mood had shifted and Dori pulled away, pressing his lips together to control his grin. Bilbo blinked up at him, a slow smile blossoming, bringing out his round Hobbit cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo continues to try to win over Thorin. Dori is hit with an unexpected surprise. And Kili gets put in his place.

Chapter 8 

Thorin paced the communal room, the slanted morning sunlight streaming in through the overhead glass leaving lines of light crossing the floor. His boots beat against the stone floor, mindless of the light splashed across stones, accompanied by the sound of breaking furniture. Many of the party were out exploring the elven city, taking pleasure in the libraries, kitchens and gardens. Thorin couldn't understand how they could move amongst the Elves with such ease. This place made his skin itch.

Only Gloin and Dwalin remained in the room, Gloin reading a book and Dwalin demolishing a table, placing the pieces of rubble in a cone shape to be lit aflame. Thorin was ready to be gone, out of there, leave. But they had to wait days still, until the proper moon phase arrived and the map could be read. Thorin stalked across the atrium again, a caged animal.

The hairs on the back of his neck raised and he spun to see Bilbo walking towards him, his large bare feet pattering against the stone-tiled floor, gaining and losing stripes of light. "Thorin! Glad you're here. I wanted to show you something." The Hobbit's gaze shifted to the other two Dwarves, dismissed Gloin—who didn't even look up from his book—and shifted to Dwalin. "Dwalin, you might be interested too."

"Oh, yeah, what is it?" Dwalin asked, dismissing the splinters for the moment to face Bilbo. Bilbo eyed the demolished furniture, lips pressed together. He gave his head a little shake, but wisely held his tongue.

"A weapons training area. I figured, you'd like to see it," he said to Thorin. "Maybe swing your sword around, vent some anxiety."

Thorin frowned. "I'm not anxious."

"Of course not!" Bilbo raised his hands. "I just thought it would interest you. Please, come. I would love to show you."

Thorin didn't give a stone chip about some elven training ground, but Bilbo looked excited to show it to him. He sighed. "Fine. I shall go."

Dwalin pushed himself to his feet, groaning like an old man. Thorin rolled his eyes. "I'll come," Dwalin said, dusting wood debris from his pants and tunic. "Gloin?"

Gloin barely looked up from his book. "No, I'll stay here. Guard the fort and all." He waved at them over his head.

Thorin and Dwalin grabbed their weapons, neither far from their reach, and armored up. "Bilbo, you should bring yours as well."

"Me? Oh, well… Okay." He trotted to his room. 

"I'm not, eh, intruding, right?" Dwalin asked once the Hobbit was out of earshot.

"Intruding into what?" Thorin glared at his friend.

"Just asking. Give me the signal, if you want me to go away. Get some private… alone time with the Hobbit." Dwalin was a cheeky bastard. Thorin didn't ask what the signal was supposed to be, because Bilbo had reappeared, his sword strapped to his waist. He passed them, a bounce to his step, and the two Dwarves followed in their lumbering stride. Bilbo would point down one hall and tell Thorin about a very nice viewing pool, or this other way led to a lovely mural of age old battles. It took nearly ten minutes until they reached a large arena with a sandy floor where two Elves were practicing with slim silver swords.

The Elves stopped their blade practice, faces going cold at the sight of Thorin and his escorts. 

Bilbo bowed to the Elves. Thorin grit his teeth. Why was Bilbo bowing to these blow-holes? “Greetings, Master Elves,” Bilbo said. “Would you mind if we use your arena?”

One Elf, a tall female with honey-blond hair braided to keep the hair from her face, narrowed her eyes. “Of course you may, Master Hobbit.” She turned back to her sparring partner, a male with free flowing brown hair. They took a stance and readied their blades, then, in a flurry they began a dance of steel and precise footwork. It looked to Thorin that they barely had time to settle on the ground. 

“All right now, Thorin. Ready your weapon.” Dwalin removed his heavy outer layer and gestured with his fingers, egging Thorin on, his axe hefted in one hand. The lamplight splashed across his breastplate. “Come at me, my king.”

Thorin chuckled. “Be careful what you ask for, my friend.”

Thorin dropped his overcoat to the edge of the arena and stepped forward. With a wicked grin, he charged Dwalin. In a burst of sparks, their weapons hit. They started with an easy pace, the two warriors' senses slowly filtering out the distractions around them. The world trimmed down to combatant and weapon. Dwalin was an axeman of little finesse, no extra movements, few feints, but he was brutal and focused. Thorin could not parry his blows, so instead he stepped to the left, dodging a slice through the air, then shouldered his friend, pushing him off-balance as he sweeped the floor with his sword, only to have Dwalin hop to avoid the slice. 

Sweat slipped down his back as he continued to battle Dwalin, barely holding back. He knew he wouldn't have to, that his friend could take the beating, the slashes and strikes, could divert them with the ease of camaraderie and exceptional battle skills. As they tested steel against steel he took in splashes of his surroundings. The two Elves stood beside Bilbo, watching their battle. Thorin bristled. He brought his sword around, slid along Dwalin's axe, the point inches away from his friend's chest. Dwalin's axe stalled, a foot away from Thorin's own neck, but they both knew who the victor was.

"Yield?" Thorin asked, wanting to be away from this circus show.

"Aye. I yield." Dwalin lowered his axe and bowed, a cocky grin destroying any semblance of solemnity he tried to play.

Bilbo began clapping. "That was amazing! I've never watched you spar before. So fast!" He held out a knit cloth to Thorin, then one to Dwalin. Thorin wiped his brow.

One of the Elves dipped his head in acknowledgment. "Truly you are both fine warriors. I do thank you for allowing us to watch. It was quite inspiring." Then the pair retreated to the far side of the arena and began to spar again. Thorin noticed a few dwarven moves in their melee. 

"Thorin, why don't you give Bilbo a few lessons with his own little dagger?" Dwalin scrubbed the back of his neck with the towel. "He can't always rely on tooth and claw, right Bilbo?"

Thorin studied his friend. Dwalin shrugged and walked to a fountain to scrub himself down further.

Bilbo bopped on his feet, heels popping up as if ready to jump forward, sword in the air.

"Bilbo, do you know how to fight with a sword?"

Bilbo nodded. "Well yes. It's rather simple, isn't it? Hold onto the hilt and stab 'em with the pointy end." His eyes were bright. Thorin wasn't sure if he was being teased.

"That's the basics. Why don't we teach you some specifics. Sword out!" Thorin barked and Bilbo jumped, holding his dagger farther away from his body. "Elbow in." Bilbo did as instructed, but his elbow still poked out a little too much, so Thorin took Bilbo's arm and positioned it correctly. Nearly imperceptibly, Bilbo leaned into him. The contact heated and Thorin released Bilbo, ignoring the sudden ache at their distance.

The lesson took another hour, with Thorin helping Bilbo with stance and proper positioning, and if it did contain a bit of repositioning of Bilbo on Thorin's part, well it wasn't anything unexpected for a first lesson.

~~~

"You should have seen them. Do you realize how fast they are? Slashing at each other like that? It doesn't seem so fast, on the battlefield. Or, you know, I'm busy fleeing for my life and all, but it was amazing, watching them." Bilbo's hands slapped about as he tried to describe Thorin and Dwalin's battle from the arena to Fili and Kili, who did not look impressed enough.

"Bilbo, we've seen it before. Uncle is amazing, and Dwalin is Captain for a reason," Kili said, lounging on a sofa in their assigned atrium. The rest of the Dwarves had returned from their daylight excursions and busied themselves with one project or another. 

"You do realize, Bilbo," Balin said from the table he and Thorin were sitting at, going over the map again, "that Kili and Fili are just as fast and good."

Bilbo turned back to the princes. He felt an utter simple country Hobbit. "Oh, well, you would be." Then he laughed, scratching at the back of his head. "You shall have to show me, so I can be even more amazed at dwarven combat!"

Kili nodded, leaning forward with an eagerness that put Bilbo a little bit on defense. "Oh yes! And we can show you how to fight too, Bilbo."

"Well Thorin did show me some stances today. And how to hold my sword." 

Bofur snorted. Bilbo chose to ignore him.

And it was terribly embarrassing just how bad Bilbo was with the weapon. But Bilbo would do it all again to stay so close to Thorin. His Omega was hot like a fire after his match with Dwalin, the scent of his sweat heavy in the air. Bilbo had wanted to lick across the back of Thorin's neck, nuzzle into the base of it where he'd bite him when they bonded.

Oh my. Not a good place to let his mind travel to right now. 

Kili tilted his head, staring up at him. "Bilbo, you're cheeks, they're turning reddish."

Bilbo slapped his hands to his face. "Ignore that. Tea. I think tea is in order." Bilbo trotted off to the kitchens. 

The Elves there mainly ignored him as he bustled about with the tea things. But one Elf male handed Bilbo some fine cups from an upper cupboard, his long fingers cradling the delicate earthenware. Detailed flowers had been painted along the lip. They were a tad too fine for Dwarves, Bilbo thought, remembering Dwalin's destruction of the table, but he found them beautiful. His mother would have cherished cups as superior as these.

"Thank you, these are so expertly painted." Bilbo caressed the tiny forget-me-nots painted below the gold-lined rim.

"You should use the best, Master Hobbit, if you are courting your chosen mate," the Elf said, his long hair framing his narrow face as he looked down at Bilbo.

Bilbo sputtered, straightening his back. "Courting, well, yes… well, why would you even say that?"

The Elf briefly drew his fingers across his own cheeks. "I can see the fading colors. Your Omega is within the group of Dwarves." He smiled a conspiratorial smile, that Bilbo didn't quite feel proper. But as he examined the cups, he knew Dori would appreciate their delicate lines and the gold lip would certainly interest any Dwarf.

"Hmm, I see. Well, these are certainly beautiful and I'm sure those who will enjoy this tea will appreciate these cups."

The Elf laughed, a joyous sound that eased Bilbo's need to spin up some excuse. He finished up the tea, a toasted black that Bilbo thought smelled divine, and brought the pot and four cups back to the Dwarves' temporary rooms.

He poured a cup for Dori and Ori, who he knew both loved tea. 

"Thank you, Bilbo," Dori said, his eyes watching Bilbo with easy pleasure. 

Bilbo bowed with a flourish. "Anything for you, Dori." He captured the Dwarf's eyes and held them. His heart rattled in his chest until Dori closed his eyes a moment, inhaled the heady aroma of tea, and opened them again. Beside Dori, Ori turned his attention from one to the other, tea apparently forgotten.

Dori licked his lips once, nothing seductive, more nervous. "And for you, Bilbo." 

If Bilbo had been a cockerel, he could have crowed. Instead he pulled himself to his full height, tugged down his weskit and smiled. 

Across the room, Bilbo knew that Thorin watched them. He could practically feel the touch of Thorin's gaze. Bilbo poured another cup and took it over to the king. "Tea?" he asked, then noticed the map spread out across the table, debris from Dwalin's incomprehensible demolition job holding down each corner of it to keep it from curling up. "Only a few more days and you'll know about that secret writing."

Thorin picked up the delicate cup with great care, sipped and hmmed in approval. "Good," he said at the tea. "And I'm happy you were able to determine the hidden writing. You've been quite a boon on this quest, Bilbo."

Thorin's deep voice nearly sent a spasm through Bilbo's body at the praise. He was torn again, between his two Omegas. Thorin's battle-hard physic and kingly attitude. Dori's culture and kindness. 

Bilbo bowed, smirking at Thorin. "I shall hopefully continue to prove myself a great asset to you, your majesty." Thorin's eyes widened before Bilbo turned and paced across the inlayed floor to Dori. While the Dwarves discussed different teas from around Middle-earth, Bilbo planned another trip to the library. Certainly there had to be some example of a threesome bonding. What he felt now couldn't be a first.

~~~

In the communal area, Dori sat on a stiff iron chair which provided proper back support for his knitting. Though most of the Dwarves had gathered with him, it held a rather quiet, soothing air about it. Ori and Nori were lounging on a couch together; Ori's nose in a book while Nori was sharpening his knives. While Dori understood needing properly sharpened weapons, his brother had a somewhat unhealthy fascination with his own. Dwalin was also tending to his weapons while Balin was busy with some scrolls. Fili and Kili were reading over a book they'd found in the elven library, giggling over something on the pages. Dori hoped it wasn't inappropriate for the boys. 

They would soon have to cross the Mistys and Bilbo did not have his own scarf. The poor Hobbit didn't even have an adequate winter coat. He hoped the elven tailor could finish in the promised time. Dori wished he'd had the time and materials to craft the coat himself, but still he purred inside thinking of Bilbo in the coat he'd ordered for him and the scarf he'd knit him, a twirling sensation twisting in his belly that settled lower into his groin until wetness hit his smallclothes.

He stopped his knitting needles, stilled his entire body. Did that just…?

He hadn't felt that sensation in several months. He pressed his lips together. Must be… Couldn't be. He was on herbs!

With sly unobtrusiveness, he scanned the room to see if anyone was looking his way. Bilbo wasn't around, which was probably a good thing.

More wetness.

Oh Mahal. Bad, bad, bad.

Kili lifted his head, his chuckle fading as he looked around and spotted Dori. Dori feigned focused attention to his knitting. He needed to get to his room, away from the others before the Alphas caught his heat-scent.

Kili strode over and plopped into a chair next to Dori. "Hi Dori. What are you making?"

"A scarf." He leaned away from Kili, who was inclining towards him, inhaling. "For Bilbo," Dori said pointedly.

"Oh, that's nice of you. The Hobbit needs something to keep him warm. You know, Dori." Kili got closer, lowered his voice. "You smell really good."

"I do not. Now, go away." Dori put on his stern face, the one that even made Nori cower. Unfortunately it did nothing for Kili and they were gathering attention from the others. "I need to finish this."

Kili leaned even closer and _whiffed_. "Oh, Mahal," Kili groaned out. A thick heady scent of Alpha filled the air.

Oh by Mahal, indeed! 

Kili reached out and touched Dori's shoulder. Dori grabbed Kili's hand and bent it backwards at the wrist. "You will leave me be, Kili."

Kili whined, twisting his body to alleviate some of the pain on his wrist. "Owe, Dori. You're hurting… damn, that hurts!"

Then up through the hall came a streak of blue. Bilbo, dressed in his blue velvet vest, grabbed Kili by the front of his shirt and forcefully pushed the larger Dwarf across the room up against the far wall.

The Hobbit's face was splashed with an angry yellow. "Kili, you need to leave Dori alone." More scent filled the air, Alpha upon Alpha, and Dori's wetness spread.

Kili scrambled against the wall, trying to pull Bilbo's fists from his tunic. "Bilbo, what the hell? Let go." He squirmed but Bilbo held tight.

Dori's attention was pulled from the scene before him by Balin coming to his side. The older Dwarf squatted next to Dori's chair. "I know what is happening, Dori."

Dori felt like rolling his eyes. _Everyone_ , well maybe not the Betas, knew what was happening. "Yes? It's not like I went into heat on purpose," he said, more bitter than he sounded, his eyes back on Bilbo and Kili.

Bilbo leaned in. "Kili, I like you. You're a good friend. But, if I find you sniffing around Dori again, I will scrape your face off against the floor."

The room went still, except Ori, whose hand fluttered to cover his open-mouthed shock. Balin said, "If you need assistance, I would offer if, if the Hobbit is not your choice."

Dori shifted his body to look at Balin, but a noise pulled him back to Bilbo. Kili was baring his throat to the Alpha Hobbit. Dori gasped. The pheromones inundating the air shifted again as Kili gave submission to the more mature Alpha. Bilbo tip-toed himself up and set his teeth upon the younger Dwarf's skin and growled.

"Um, Bilbo," Fili said, stepping forward, hands out in as unaggressive a manner as possible. "Are you throating my brother?" 

Bilbo pulled away. Dori was relieved to see no bite mark on Kili's throat. "Fili, get your brother out of my face." Then he launched Kili toward Fili, his strength quite the shock, and spun on Dori. His eyes noted Balin, and Dori sensed the other Alpha tensing next to him. "Come," Bilbo commanded. 

Dori faced Balin. "Thank you for the offer, but I will go with Bilbo." Bilbo reached out and Dori took his hand. His slick was oozing out of him and he just hoped his trousers weren't soaked enough for everyone to see. Though he had been taking herbs this entire trip, he was going into heat and there was nothing to be done about it. When his Alpha demanded he go with him, into a bedroom no less, he was not about to argue. He gripped Bilbo's wrist in his own hand, stepping to his Alpha's side as they went into Dori's room and closed the door.

~~~

"What the hell?" Nori threw his hands in the air. "My brother just went into heat. Damn, the place stinks of Alpha!"

"Is that what happened?" Ori asked, still shocked and shaking. "Kili, are you okay?"

Kili nodded, his eyes on the hallway Dori and Bilbo had just disappeared down as he rubbed at his wrist. "He smelled so good, Fi. I just wanted to be near him. That's all."

Fili sighed and hugged his brother, patting his back. "Dori is Bilbo's Omega, Kili. You can't have him."

"So, little Kili's an Alpha, finally presenting his status," Dwalin teased, tousling Kili's hair.

Kili just sat there, staring, despondent loss scrawled on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! Glad you're enjoying this story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dori goes into heat and he and Bilbo mate. Thorin's a little thrown by this.

Chapter 9

Clutching his knitting to his chest, Dori watched Bilbo pace before the door. The Alpha's shoulders were stiff, his jaw clenching and unclenching. His coloring changed from fierce yellow to the more enticing maroon and golds. 

"Dori," Bilbo straightened his posture and faced Dori, a slight reverberation to his voice, "you are in heat." 

Warmth spread through Dori's groin, a twisting surge of desire, setting his face to burn with the heat of a silver forge. "Yes, it appears so," Dori said. "I have been taking my herbs, but apparently… my body wasn't listening." This was not something to be embarrassed about! Dori lifted his chin.

Alpha scent, subtle at first, but building by degrees, tickled at Dori's senses. Alpha in rut. The musky, heady odor went straight to Dori's penis. "I want you," Bilbo said in his near purr. "To mate with you. Breed you.” Bilbo blinked, shook his head. “If you want me to leave. Tell me. _Now_." 

Dori caught the slight shake in Bilbo's hands as he half reached for the door. Dori's heart hammered in his chest. He shook his head, reaching out for his Alpha. "No… I want … to, ah, mate with you also." More slick slipped from his rear. Oh, it was hot in there.

Bilbo lifted his nose and inhaled, the purr turning into a groan as he squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them again, now a sharp copper ring surrounding a blown pupil. He licked his lips.

Oh Mahal. A shiver coursed through Dori's body.

"Dori, may I underdress you?" Bilbo asked, stepping closer. 

Dori blushed, but nodded, setting the knitting down onto a round bed-side table. Bilbo stalked him, there was no other word for it, placing one over-sized foot before the other, hunting his prey. His eyes were set on Dori. When nearly chest to chest, Bilbo placed his palm upon Dori's torso and brushed down his body, slowly, feeling along his sides and then back to the front again where his fingers tweeked the first button of Dori's vest and popped it open.

"That's one," Bilbo said. Dori swallowed. His fingers tingled and he considered touching Bilbo—his hair, or maybe his shoulders—but his hands wouldn't move from his sides. Then Bilbo's fingers climbed down his torso, sliding along, never abandoning contact, doing their work.

"Two."

"Three."

One button at a time, until Dori's vest was freed from his body. Like a column of granite, Dori stood motionless as Bilbo gently drew the vest over Dori's shoulders and then folded it, laying it across the back of a chair. Dori still could not move while the Alpha began work on his spring green shirt.

"Dori, I've never mated before," Bilbo said. "Oh, I'm no innocent, I've had sex, but…" He paused the undressing and pressed his forehead to Dori's bare chest. His small body was shaking, the rut-scent mixed with the slight flavor of uncertainty. 

The scent soaked into Dori's body. He broke from his petrification and wrapped his arms around Bilbo, rubbing his cheek across Bilbo's curly hair, marking him. He cooed at his Alpha. "It's okay, Bilbo. We'll be okay."

"Have you…? Mated?"

"Yes, my Bilbo. Most Dwarves go through their heats and ruts with another. There's no shame in it and future bondeds don't expect anything else. The herbs stall any unwanted pregnancies."

Bilbo didn't move for a moment, and Dori wondered if he was disappointed that he'd mated before. But then, Bilbo nodded, his head scratching against Dori's bared chest framed by his half opened shirt.

"For Hobbits, we don't typically go into full rut until we find someone we're compatible with. Sure, we play around, learn love-making skills, but it's just with someone you fancy and you get a woody off of, you know?" Dori ran his fingers through Bilbo's hair, just listening. "I can tell you, what I feel now, is not the same. I'm… I'm struggling." 

Bilbo had never mated with another. Dori would be his first. Something prideful and possessive roared within Dori's mind and he clutched and petted at his small Alpha. "I’m here, Bilbo. You don't have to struggle. I am here."

Bilbo looked up, the copper ring a barest shell around the black. Colorful swatches splashed across his cheeks. "I want to taste you."

Heat coiled in Dori's nethers; his knees nearly gave. Bilbo clutched onto him, settling him down on the edge of the bed. With desperate, unsteady fingers, he worked off Dori's shirt and crawled up onto his lap, kissing along Dori's neck, nuzzling his chest, bathing him in scent. 

"Dori. Dori, my Omega. You smell…" Bilbo's words gave way to a low growl and he swiped his tongue along the cusp of Dori's neck and shoulder. Dori gasped under Bilbo's mouth, arched his back to present more of himself as he relaxed into the mattress. His turgid penis pushed against his trousers that were slick at his rear. Holding himself up with his arms, Dori scooted back on the bed, carrying Bilbo with him. He grabbed Bilbo's shoulders and brought him in for a kiss. Oh yes, lovely lovely lovey. Bilbo's mouth was hot and tasted slightly spicy. Their tongues twined around each other as Dori's hands roamed over Bilbo's form. He was smaller than a Dwarf, obviously, and softer. But underneath the layer of Hobbit cushion, Bilbo had gained some muscle. His rump was firm and Dori kneaded the flesh, pulling Bilbo's body flush with his, feeling his curves and angles, the hard length at his groin.

Bilbo tore himself away, gasping, eyes wide as he gazed down at Dori. "By Yavanna, Dori." He growled, a needy, deep noise tapped from the center of his slim Hobbit chest, and thrust against Dori. Firmness ground against Dori's own. Then Bilbo was up and clawing at the ties on Dori's trousers. Dori swatted his hands away, his own more steady than the rutting Alpha, and undid his own ties and Bilbo helped him shimmy out of them. Then his smalls were torn away. And with no warning, Bilbo manhandled Dori to lay on his front and the Hobbit's tongue was licking at his entrance.

Dori jerked. Oh! That was what he meant by tasting him. 

Dori felt shy and awkward, but that soon was trampled by the intense feelings of Bilbo's tongue lapping up his slick. "Mahal, dear stones of the earth, Bilbo." Dori pressed his rear back into Bilbo's face and Bilbo eagerly ate away, pressing his lips around his ring and sucking. A firm grip took hold of Dori's erection and the world spun. Dori pressed his face into the soft feather mattress and lifted his hind end for Bilbo. A hand on his member and a tongue in his rear and the heady scent of his Alpha in rut. Dori didn't last long.

~~~

Bilbo had turned Dori over and now lapped up the seed matting the silver hair on his belly. Relief soothed some of the ache buzzing within Dori, but the heat was still there. It would remain until Bilbo mounted him and filled Dori with his seed. 

"Hmm, Dori. You taste so amazing." Bilbo propped himself up to look into Dori's eyes. Bilbo was grinning, a half-crooked besotted expression, his face a canvass of colors and glistening with bodily fluids. Peacocking. Bilbo was peacocking. 

"I can't believe, well, what you did." It was too late to be embarrassed, but Dori still was a proper Dwarf.

"Tasting your slick?" Bilbo asked, head tilted in question. 

Dori nodded.

He daintily wiped at his lips with his thumb and forefinger. "I need to, to taste your slick, so I can form a knot when we mate."

"Ah, I see. Dwarves don't need to do that. Alphas just knot when they mount an Omega."

"Too bad for them. Tasting you…" Bilbo licked his lips, gaze intense and feral. Dori felt his penis stir once more. Oh, this was going to be a long and glorious night. "I wonder what other differences there are, between Dwarves and Hobbits."

Dori raised his eyebrows. "I guess we will find out."

Bilbo wiggled his body up Dori's. He was naked now, too, and Dori missed undressing him. But seeing Bilbo erect and excited for Dori sent another wave of intense longing through his body. Bilbo leaned down and kissed him, and Dori, tentative at first, gave in, tasting the salty flavor of his slick and the bitter taste of his semen. His erection filled.

"Bilbo, are you ready? To mount me?" Dori wiggled a little. 

Bilbo popped his head up to gaze into Dori's eyes. He nodded. "Can we face each other? I want to see you."

Dori agreed, willing to do anything to fill the empty spaces within his body. He ached for Bilbo now, his entrance and channel burning to have Bilbo inside. Dori glanced down at Bilbo's erection, the red head poking through the foreskin. It looked normal, no abnormal Hobbit bits showing up in his rut. The red poofy flesh at the base revealed the area Bilbo's knot would form, locking them together. Dori hmmed as more slick released. He opened his legs, watching as Bilbo looked down at his entrance and took himself in hand. He stroked once, twice. "Are you loose enough? Should I do more, ah preparation?"

As an Omega in heat, Dori knew his body was fully ready for mating, but he wanted to drag out his anticipation, wanted to build up Bilbo's own desire. "Use your fingers, please. Make sure I'm ready."

Bilbo nodded eagerly, abandoned his own erection and Dori felt a gentle caress on his rim. The muscles twitched and Bilbo groaned, his eyes rolling up within their sockets. Dori nearly crowed; he loved undoing his strong Alpha. Bilbo bit his lip as he slid a finger in. "Oh, Dori. Dori. You feel…" Dori sighed, the gentle glide tickling his need. Bilbo didn't dally with just one for long, and soon a second slid into his body and then a third that Dori definitely felt. He shifted his hips, letting the Hobbit's slim fingers sink into him.

"My sweet Dori." Bilbo kissed his knee and he twisted his fingers, seeking, until Dori cried out, lifting his rear off the bed in a desire for Bilbo to do whatever he'd done again. "That's it. I've got it now," Bilbo said with a prideful chuckle, and preceded to tiddle Dori's pleasure node until Dori was gasping, begging, _dirty-talking_ his Alpha.

"Bilbo, please. Enter me now. Please, I'm ready. Mount me, Bilbo!" His Alpha needed to do his job!

Bilbo removed his fingers and immediately the loss was replaced by the blunt head of his penis.

"In me. I want you in me," Dori demanded, the slick easing any restriction to Bilbo's firm thrust as Bilbo flicked his hips and buried himself all in one go.

Bilbo growled, licking at Dori's knees. "So hot. Dori. Smooth, and hot, and like nothing… nothing." Bilbo gasped. "You fit me perfectly. You are perfect, my beautiful Dwarf. So tight and …" he growled again and began thrusting, long strokes that sped up to meet the beating of Dori's heart. Dori watched Bilbo's face, his teeth gritted together, breath panting, eyes alien and feral. Dori shifted his hips with each thrust, meeting Bilbo, needing him deeper, to fill him, to explode within him. He wasn't going to say such things, even in his heat, but Bilbo knew and Bilbo was going to give him what he needed.

Then Bilbo slipped his arms under Dori's knees and tilted his pelvis, hitting that spot within Dori that tore through his senses. "Ah, yes!" he screeched, and Bilbo kept hitting his node. Pummeling it. Bilbo awkwardly grabbed Dori's erection and pumped. A dual onslaught had Dori gasping, head tossing. He reached up for Bilbo, gripped his shoulders even as he tried to keep the tilt that had his Alpha spinning him up into a cloud of need. At his rim he could feel the pressure with every thrust. Bilbo's knot was growing. He was ready. Dori egged him on. "Yes. Now. In me. Bilbo!" With a firm drive into Dori's body, Bilbo's knot seated itself.

So full. So tight. Knotted. Dori tossed his head back, his entire body bowed with the tension. He couldn't last, even though he'd ejaculated once not but a quarter hour before. He could feel his inner organs constrict and then pleasure shuddered through his body. Bilbo bit his knee and semen shot from Dori's penis, arcing through the air. Another shot. Another. One stream hit his chin. He wailed under his dual orgasm, a guttural release of passion. Bilbo's thrusts skipped and stuttered. He was moored in Dori's body as he unloaded his seed, filling Dori. Completing him.

Dori panted, his internal organs still spasming. Exhausted, he petted Bilbo's hair even as the Hobbit continued to ejaculate. Bilbo's mouth was open, his eyes near rolled back in his head. A low noise keened from the Hobbit's throat. Fully knotted, he couldn't move from that position. An odd sensation shifted deep within Dori's channel. It seemed… oh, but that was silly.

Bilbo rested his head upon Dori's knee. "Dori. Oh, Dori. You can't… this is incredible. You are so perfect." Bilbo petted Dori's thigh, his hip, his belly. Dori's legs were beginning to cramp, but he wasn't going to complain.

"Bilbo, I… Ah. How long are you going to ejaculate?" It had been going on for some time.

Bilbo shuddered, his penis still pulsing within Dori. "For a -- about a half-hour. Isn't that," he gasped as his body shuddered again, "normal?" 

Dori's eyes opened wide. "A half-hour? No… well, for Dwarves that wouldn't be normal."

Bilbo grew shy and looked away. "Only in rut. But yeah, we go on and on. My dad explained it all to me. It feels…" He rolled his eyes up to the heavens. "He told me, but words… Yavanna, Dori, you feel amazing. But I'm going to become very tired." He smiled self-depreciatively. "Just to warn you."

Dori again felt something deep within him shifting, and though he wasn't worried, it was obvious that Hobbit and Dwarven physiology was different. "So, Bilbo, what exactly is going on… down there?" He raised his eyebrows. 

Bilbo tilted his head again and pondered. "What… Oh! Oh, well," he grew shy once again, "you see, my … I will continue to grow inside of you. As we repeatedly mate during my rut, my penis enlarges so I can implant my seed as deeply within you as possible." He looked away from Dori's eyes. "To assure a productive mating."

"To get me pregnant," he decided to take the weight off the Hobbit's flustering. 

Bilbo nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.

"You know, I'm on the herbs. I'm not fertile." Though, Dori had to admit, he shouldn't be in heat, either.

"Oh, yes, well of course." Bilbo failed at hiding his disappointment. 

Dori could still feel Bilbo pulsing and growing steadily deeper within his body. Bilbo shifted, his hard shaft brushing along Dori's pleasure node, causing friction all the way down his channel. He couldn't stop the moan. Though rooted by the knot, Bilbo performed a little thrust, and another, and the pressure grew like static and Dori could do nothing but lay there, letting the hobbit pleasure him until another orgasm shimmered through is body, deeper, less earth-shaking but no less pleasurable.

"Oh Mahal." Three organism in… what, less than a half-hour? His body was being played by the Hobbit's perfect penis.

"Are you okay," Bilbo panted, still perched between Dori's legs, his ejaculation showing no signs of slowing. "I was hoping you'd like that. Did you like that?" Bilbo sounded tired and somewhat blissed out as his body continued to empty into Dori.

"Yes." Dori laughed. "Wonderful." He reached out and ran his fingers through Bilbo's sweaty hair. "I'm just not accustomed to… this."

Bilbo petted Dori's belly, right above where Bilbo was nestled inside. "How is your heat?"

"Soothed right now. But, I'll want another round, or two," he said, a tad embarrassed expressing his own needs. Really, Dori scolded himself, he wasn't going to be shy around his Alpha, who was currently in the process of mating with him. The very active process of it. He took in a deep breath. "For Dwarves, we'll mate three or four times over the course of a day or two."

"Oh."

"Bilbo?"

"For Hobbits, well, I'm knotted into you for at least a half hour. My rut fluctuates, right now I'm sated and calm, but I'll get more… possessive, and a little bit demanding. Really, I might get impolite and I must apologize now. I'll want to knot you—" Dori felt the penis inside him twitch and Bilbo trembled, "—at least, ah, four times until I come out of my rut." Bilbo's eyes slipped from Dori's and he realized it was a clear sign that Bilbo wasn't telling him everything.

"Bilbo?" Dori scolded.

"Well, four times is a minimum, according to my father. We might be here for… ah, three days? Four? For other Hobbits. I don't know for me… and you. Us."

"Oh, well. Three days. If that is what will happen, that is what will be." Dori tried to be encouraging, but he knew Thorin wouldn't be pleased with the delay. He briefly wondered how Thorin was taking it? He and Bilbo mating right now. Dori didn't want to think about Bilbo and Thorin mating, though he knew it was probably inevitable, no matter how adamant Thorin was against it.

Dori squeezed around Bilbo and the Hobbit pulsed his hips again, a small gasp escaping his lips. Heat pooled in Dori's groin. 

"You want to come again?" Bilbo asked with a waggle of his eyebrows. 

Dori laughed. "Oh yes!"

~~~

Another cry of ecstasy came from the closed door down the hall. Fili had dragged Kili away, because the newly presenting Alpha had started whining and whimpering. He would be terribly embarrassed about his display later.

Nori grumbled and growled as he tried to focus on his weapons. Ori hid his red face in his hands. "I need a new place to sleep," Nori said. "Ori, you have to deal with our brother," he pointed towards the hall, "I won't let his heat trigger mine. Listen to that! Would you--- wait, no. It's my brother. Oh, Mahal. Don’t listen." He glared at the gathered Dwarves.

"Can't rightly not," said Oin, who being near deaf still heard the rutting going on in the 'Ri brother's room.

"You can stay with me," Bofur said, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Then he jumped to his feet. "I mean, how can any of you stand here and listen to that and not…?" He gestured at his crotch, which sported a definite bulge. "Okay, who wants to join me for some fun? Nori? Yeah?"

Nori bared his teeth. "I'm not in heat, Bofur. I don't want your cock up my ass."

"No problem." Bofur flashed his teeth. "As long as we both get off, I don't care."

"Fine. Oh, Mahal, I'm horny from listening to my brother mate." And the two walked down the hall for Bofur's room, the miner wearing quite the cheery look.

"I’m up for that." Dwalin stood and looked around the room. "Anyone up for … how did the miner say it, some fun?" 

There were few Dwarves left who were not already spoken for. Gloin laughed and shook his head. "Married, I wouldn't."

Ori, shy like a little puppy, raised his hand. "Um, I wouldn't mind."

"Right you are, Ori." Dwalin dragged the younger Dwarf to his feet. "Let's go have some fun."

When Thorin finally showed up from a meeting with Elrond and Gandalf, the few Dwarves in the room were strangely quiet. "What's going on, where is everyone?" Then a cry came from a room. A few moments later a deep groan from another. "What in Mahal's name?"

The unattached Alphas, Balin and Bifur, watched Thorin. Oin chuckled. Gloin finally said, "Dori went into heat. He and Bilbo are mating. The other lads got randy and are participating in some physical exertion."

"Dori went into heat?" Thorin said, stunned.

"Yep."

"He willingly went with the burglar," Balin said. "He wasn't coerced, so you don't have to worry about that."

Another slow and steady keening of lust and release shocked Thorin into looking towards the hall. It was obviously the Hobbit. "We're on a quest for Mahal's sake." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Make sure the mating couple has food and water. We'll be here a few days anyway." He turned and stalked back the way he'd come.

~~~

Thorin walked away with dignity, until he rounded a corner and rushed to a nearby garden where he could be alone. He near-collapsed against the wall, the cool stone pulling away some of the heat from his cheek. 

Bilbo and Dori.

Well, it was inevitable. The Alpha had been courting him. He just hadn't expected it to happen _now_. On the _quest_. Right in front of _his face_.

Thorin sighed and rolled against the wall until it supported his back. Pain rooted itself in his chest. He stared up into the sky. It was a cloudy day. Might rain. He closed his eyes to it and breathed.

~~~

A soft knock at the door roused Bilbo from his slumber where he was curled tightly to his Omega's side. Immediately, Bilbo's senses sparked to alert. He sniffed the air. Sex and heat and rut nearly clouded all other scents. Not an Alpha, not an Omega. Beta then. Dori still slept, exhausted from their matings. Bilbo covered him with a blanket and perfunctorily dressed himself, stashing away his own engorged cock, before he went to the door and cracked it open.

Ori blinked owlishly at him. "Hi Bilbo. Umm, is Dori…?" He held out a covered tray. Bilbo's stomach rumbled. "I brought you food and water."

Bilbo immediately relaxed, and something about Bilbo's calm released Ori's own anxiety. "Is Dori okay?"

Bilbo smiled. "Yes. He's resting. Thank you for bringing us food, Ori." Bilbo did a little bow and reached out for the tray, keeping the door mostly closed from Ori's sharp eyes. Ori let him take the tray from lax fingers and Bilbo pulled it in, closing the door in the Dwarf's face, not intentionally trying to be rude, but he had to protect his Omega while he was resting, even from his own Beta brother.

Bilbo set the tray on the bed-side table and looked over the foodstuffs. Bowls of fruit and dried meat. Bread and cheese. Bilbo's stomach roared, but he ignored it. Some fresh fish and rice with some chutney. Bilbo sniffed the chutney, hoping Dori would like it. If Ori picked it, it must be something his mate would enjoy. And there was tea.

Bless Ori. Now Bilbo felt bad about bullying the lad away like he had. Well, not really. Maybe later he would feel bad.

"Bilbo?" Dori muttered, reaching across the bed, seeking him out. Bilbo purred internally, pleased. He pressed his hand to the bed and let Dori's fingers find it. Dori grabbed him and yanked Bilbo to the mattress, causing him to eep, his chest pressing into Bilbo's back, nuzzling into Bilbo's neck where his Alpha scent was the strongest. 

Bilbo chuckled. "Dori," he said, rubbing circles across Dori's hands that gripped Bilbo's middle, "are you hungry?"

"Hmm," Dori said with another nuzzle, then a lick. Bilbo shivered. " _Yes_." 

"Ori brought us food."

"Ori? Food? Oh, he's such a nice lad."

"Do you want to eat?" Bilbo kept petting Dori until Dori shifted, pressing his erection into Bilbo, the long line of it grinding along Bilbo's rear. Bilbo hummed in pleasure and pushed back. His mate was ready again. But Bilbo wouldn't wear him out without nourishment. "You need to eat." Bilbo pulled himself away from his mate's warmth, earning an unhappy mewl.

He picked up some dried meat and waved it before Dori's mouth. Dori peeked through cracked lids, followed the meat and opened his mouth. Bilbo fed him, tidbit by tidbit. Dori chewed, swallowed, let his Alpha care for him. They talked about Bilbo's family and the shire. And Dori talked about Ered Luin and his brothers, their past, their hopes for Erebor. Dori finally pushed himself to sitting, patting his mussed hair down with his hands.

"Oh, I must look the sight."

Bilbo laughed. "You are beautiful." He gave Dori a peck on the cheek, his fingers dancing along the silver strands. "We can replait your hair later. I will help as best I can. For now, let us unweave it and let your mane cloak your body." Bilbo crawled forward, the trousers he'd donned for modesty's sake, too tight in his mating state. He shucked them off, allowing his enlarged cock freedom and kissed Dori heatedly, bringing a groan of pleasure and a surge of heat-scent from his Omega. Bilbo's perpetually firm cock hardened in no time, ready for another mating. The flesh of his knot was sore from filling Dori's entrance so often, but it was a welcome soreness and he knew Dori must feel worse.

"Bilbo, have you eaten?" Dori said, once their kiss was broken. His gaze roamed over Bilbo's Alpha cock, nearly twice as long now after a few matings. It alarmed even Bilbo at the change.

Bilbo shrugged. "I will eat when you are finished, my blossom." He held out a dried date. Dori opened his mouth, took a bite, and pushed the other half over to Bilbo, who popped it into his mouth. Bilbo handed Dori a cup of tea.

"Tea, in bed?" Dori asked, near scandalized, and Bilbo laughed. His prim Dori was a delight. Dori ran his fingertip along Bilbo's length. Bilbo groaned, leaning his forehead against Dori's. Perhaps not so prim.

"I could bring in a table." Bilbo would do anything from his mate. One he would bond with when the time was right. Part of his mind thought of Thorin and how he wanted both Omegas, about the book he'd found in the library that added support to what Bilbo already knew in his heart, but now Dori's scent was all wrapped in his head and his other Omega wasn't there to take up his attention.

"No, no. You are not allowed to leave." Dori took the cup and sipped the fragrant green tea. "This shall do. For now." Dori leveled a look at Bilbo, and Bilbo knew he owed his Omega a lovely tea-filled afternoon with proper cucumber sandwiches and flowered teacups.

They shared a meal, Bilbo hand feeding Dori anytime the Dwarf showed interest in another mouthful, until their stomachs were sated and other appetites took over. Then he guided Dori over onto his hands and knees, aligned his erection up to Dori's leaking hole and impaled him in one thrust.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escape from Rivendell.

Chapter 10

"Thorin, shall we go?" Gandalf asked.

Thorin collected his map from his pack and followed Gandalf through the twisting halls of the Last Homely House to their meeting with Elrond. "It seems your company is very amorous within the halls of the Elven Lord." Gandalf chuckled and Thorin scowled at him.

"You know rightly what's happening, Wizard," Thorin grumbled, his footsteps echoing in the wide halls. "It's not amusing."

"Oh, don't be so hard, Thorin. Finding a compatible mate is nothing to dismiss. For both of them it's a chance meeting of stars that they'd even found each other. It's something to cherish, not scorn."

Thorin huffed. Two giggling Elves trotted by, whispering together while looking at Thorin. "I'm not scorning them. It's just… inconvenient,” he said once the Elves had passed.

"How long have they been locked away?" Gandalf asked as they walked by another group of Elves who nodded at the Wizard. Thorin kept his eyes forward. Too many Elves. His skin itched.

"Three days."

"Oh, well they should be coming out soon. Hobbit matings last about four days, though Bilbo and Dori are no spring chickens." Gandalf leaned forward, dropping his voice. "And when you can, I suggest you take your leave."

Thorin shot his gaze up to Gandalf, searching the Wizard's face, but he had already straightened up, wearing his bumbling, jolly expression. What was the conniving Wizard planning now?

Elrond waited for them on a balcony overlooking a cascading waterfall, the thunderous sound of it killing most other noise, allowing for a certain amount of privacy though they were out in the open. The crescent moon shimmered above, periodically hidden by a high cloud that slipped across the sky. Night blooming jasmine filled the air with a sweet scent that Thorin enjoyed. He'd have to have some imported to Erebor, once the dragon was dealt with. In his hind brain—where he would have no need to confess to such thoughts—he thought Bilbo would enjoy the scent as well.

"If you please." Elrond gestured to a crystal altar. Thorin walked up, unrolling the map to spread over the smooth surface of the crystal. Spray from the waterfall caught on the breeze and dusted the gathering with tiny droplets of water. Thorin positioned his body to block the mist from his grandfather's map.

The moonlight settled upon the aged map, and ancient dwarven runes seeped into the parchment as if burned there by a brand. Thorin just stared. Bilbo _had_ been right all along. Elrond leaned over the map, his eyes revealing nothing as he recited: "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks, and the setting sun, with the last light of Durin's Day, will shine upon the keyhole."

"Durin's Day." Their time was running out.

"What is it you are up to, Gandalf?" Elrond's eyes were flat. "Other guardians of Middle-earth would demand you reveal your plans."

"The White Council, yes, I am aware they have arrived." Gandalf nudged Thorin toward the map, so Thorin rolled it up and slipped it inside his coat. "Have they all gathered then?"

Elrond's face went placid. "We shall meet in an hour's time."

The old Wizard leaned on his staff. "Then we better prepare."

~~~

Bilbo's long ejaculation ended, his cock floating in a pool of slick and come. As his knot deflated, he mourned the loss of his seed as it slipped from his Omega's body. A very instinctual part of him wanted to lock it within Dori with a plug. Fertilizing his Omega. The knowledge that his Dwarf was on contraceptives enticed equal parts anxiety and anger. The emotion was visceral. Dori should be pregnant now, with their child. And Bilbo wanted to try again and again until he was certain the seed had set, but Dori's heat was ending. Stupid herbs. 

But a very cognizant side of Bilbo tried to sooth the Alpha within him. He was _not_ all instinct. He was a gentlehobbit, by all that was green! They could talk about children later, when they were bonded and not on a dangerous quest. If Dori were to become pregnant while they were on the quest, Bilbo didn't know what he would do. Quit? Sequester his Omega away? But then, what of Thorin?

Laying alongside Dori, Bilbo rubbed Dori's belly absently, thinking of the life that should be there. Dori purred at the attention.

"How are you?" Bilbo asked. "Anything you need?"

Dori shook his head and stretched his body long. Bilbo tickled fingers along the ripple of muscles. Dori's beautiful silver hair was a mess and Bilbo carded his fingers through it, trying to defeat some of the tangles as he peppered Dori's shoulders with lazy, open-mouthed kisses.

"I need a bath," Dori said. 

Bilbo sniffed the air. Omega and semen and slick and his own Alpha pheromones. The room reeked of sex. "We both do."

Dori patted Bilbo on the thigh and climbed out of the bed—Bilbo admired Dori's muscles shifting under his layer of thick dwarven skin and fur—grabbing a towel and wiping at the fluids sluicing from his body. Bilbo frowned, then shook his head. Now was not the time. Dori pulled a dressing gown on and went to the door. A spike of anxiety jerked Bilbo to his feet, then let the feeling relax and go away. His Alpha instincts were fading with his rut and Dori's heat. Dori opened the door and called out quietly to someone. Eventually Ori's bright face showed up.

"Are you two… finished?" Ori asked, his nose wrinkling. "You sure sounded like you were having a good time," he teased.

Dori slapped at his brother. "Oh, you stop that. Be a good lad and let us know if the baths are empty, would you?"

Dori closed the door after Ori ran off and pulled Bilbo to his chest. Shocking Bilbo, Dori wrapped him up in his arms and kissed him, deep and long, full of tender love. Bilbo purred. Dori pulled away, then rubbed his cheek along Bilbo's, marking the Alpha as his. A delighted smile spread across Dori's lips that Bilbo couldn't help but return. He then dressed Bilbo in an oversized dressing gown. Though Bilbo had tried to clean them through their mating, both were sticky and sore, and desperately needed a hot soak. Dori petted Bilbo's cock. "I see this has gone back to normal." Was that loss? Longing? 

"We will have other matings," Bilbo said, rubbing his own facial scent glands over Dori's cheek, already eager for Dori's next heat.

Ori returned and announced the all clear. 

The mated pair left the room together and entered the baths. They sat on the little stools near the taps and scrubbed each other clean of semen, slick and sweat. It was glorious to have Dori attend to him. His hands deftly washed Bilbo's body, from hair to shoulders, to deflated cock. "How do you feel?" Dori asked, his wet hair a cascade down his back.

"A bit sore, as I'm sure you are. Especially," he pressed around the red puffy skin where his knot appeared. "Ooh, I might have to take a day or two break," Bilbo said lasciviously with an added waggle of his eyebrows for effect. Dori chuckled, and pulled Bilbo in for a kiss.

Once clean, they lounged in the steaming pool and let the heat release some of the ache in their bodies. The air held the steam from the pools and muffled the sound of the condensate dripping. Bilbo wished for some bath salts, the kind his aunt used to gift his mother with every Yule. 

"I wish to ask you, Bilbo," Dori said, breaking the silence. "Why did you attack Kili and not Balin? Both are Alphas."

Bilbo fretted. "Oh, I did hurt poor Kili. I hope the lad's okay. But… he was scenting the air, Dori. And taking in your pheromones." He clutched his hands together, examining his knuckles. "He would have taken you away from me."

Dori rubbed Bilbo's neck and Bilbo could smell the Omega marking Dori left there. The water sloshed against the pool sides as Dori curled Bilbo up in his arms. "No, no, my Alpha,” Dori whispered. “Kili would not have taken me from you."

Bilbo relaxed in Dori's hold. "Well, the little rat would have tried. Anyway, Balin wasn't laying claims on you. He was being polite."

A Dwarf cleared his throat and the two looked over to see Thorin standing at the bath's entrance. Dori sat up straighter. Bilbo smiled at Thorin, delighted in seeing that his other Omega was well. 

Dori cleared his throat. "Would you like to join us, Thorin?" Bilbo beamed at Dori. 

Thorin scowled. "No. We are leaving tonight, in an hour. Be prepared."

"Tonight, but why?" Bilbo asked, tense. "Has something happened?"

Thorin's gaze burned into Bilbo. Bilbo's mind clicked over. "It isn't just your dislike of Elves," he said. "Something _has_ happened."

Thorin blinked, nodded, the argument that seemed to be brewing by the furrowing of that brow, gone. "Gandalf warned us away. The White Council is meeting. He thinks it best we move on before their meeting ends."

"I see. Yes, they might not approve of your quest. They are a group with secret agendas and –"

"Excuse me," Dori said, "but how do you know about this White Council?"

Bilbo smirked. "I read."

"Well, we better ready ourselves." Dori stood from the water, bare as they day and beautiful. Bilbo watched the water drip from his stout body as Dori grabbed a towel. "Come on, lazy bones." He held a towel out for Bilbo, who climbed from the pool and took the knit cloth. When he turned back to talk to Thorin, the king was gone.

~~~

It took them little time to gather their belongings for their escape from the elven realm. They spared more time than probably prudent scenting each other, laying claim that any other Alpha or Omega could read. Dori had run off to collect some things, insisting he was fine and did not need Bilbo to accompany him. Bombur and Bofur had cased the kitchens and bolstered their food stores. Before any hint of light had touched the skyline, the Company slipped from the Last Homely House through a daylight garden that collected no admirers in the dark of night and began their arduous trek toward the Misty Mountains.

Nearly blind, Bilbo kept between Dori and Nori, quiet hunters in the night. By the time dawn had broken, the foothills of the mountains had risen steadily and the sunlight shone on the white-peaked teeth of the mountain range. 

"We'll stop here for an hour, then we'll march again." Thorin set Bombur to making a quick meal while he, himself, perched on a rocky outcropping, watching the path they'd already crossed. Bilbo had had no time to gather treats for his Omega's along the hike, but he wasn't the only one who'd stored away tidbits from the elven kitchens. 

He approached Thorin, purposefully making noise amidst the small gravel and hardy grasses. "Do you suppose they will follow?" A yawn took over his face, and he smiled sheepishly. He'd gotten very little sleep lately.

Thorin's body shifted, and he looked over his shoulder at Bilbo. Bilbo tried to tease out some knowledge from the shadowed look of Thorin's, but failed. His eyebrows remained stubbornly silent in their message. Perhaps he was just worried about the White Council. "I do not know. If the Council wishes to stop us, I fear their tenacity in such a goal."

Bilbo sat next to Thorin, a bundle in his lap. "Do you know why they would try to stop us?"

Thorin shook his head. "I wasn't told." He grumbled, and Bilbo could only guess at his frustration at the lack of reverence for his station and the plight of his people. Only Gandalf had offered to help, and neither Bilbo nor Thorin thought it was a completely altruistic gesture.

The Wizard was up to something.

"Hmm, yes, there are always secret missions us mere mortals are told nothing about." Bilbo tried for levity, but Thorin only offered a side-ways glance that suggested the joke was not appreciated. So, Bilbo unwrapped his bundle and offered up a chocolate cupcake instead. "This is for you." He held out the tiny cake in one hand.

Thorin looked at it, the scent of chocolate obviously catching his attention.

"Don't tell me you just whipped this up at the campfire." The king took the cupcake, studying it.

Bilbo chuckled. "No, it's elven, I must confess. But I saw you eating them at dinner so I hoped it would be acceptable, now that we are away from the Elves."

"Yes, they are delicious." Thorin took a huge bite and chewed, still staring across the basin to the river valley where Rivendell sat amidst the stones and forest. He swallowed and said, "Thank you. Would you like some?"

Bilbo agreed and took a tiny bite of the cupcake as Thorin held the dessert. Their eyes met over the chocolate cake. Bilbo took another bite. Licked his lips. The flavor on his tongue sweet, the heat in his veins stirring.

Thorin's brows furrowed. Bilbo's playful tease disappeared.

"Why do you do that?" Thorin asked, frustration and curiosity, and something more that might have been hurt, swirling around in the question like a typhoon. "You've mated with Dori, so why do you do these things?" He lowered the cupcake, his arm resting against his thighs. He dropped his face, allowing his hair to fall forward, shielding him.

"I've mated with Dori, and I still want to mate with you. I said it before, Thorin, I want you both. Dori is okay with this situation. You are compatible. You are sexy. You are smart and brave and I want you." He let a little of his scent slip into the air, just a little. "It's not unheard of. I found a book that talked about a bonding of three. A _bonding_ , not just a simple mating. The book was about Elves, but still, I know what I feel for you _and_ Dori. I know it's real."

Thorin looked up, eyes narrowed. "I do not share, Bilbo."

Bilbo's heart pounded. He wanted to lean forward and kiss away Thorin's uncertainty, his anger. "Maybe you should try." Bilbo got up and walked away, not wanting to anger his Omega anymore. 

He found Dori fiddling with his pack when he presented his first Omega with his own cupcake, this one strawberry. 

"Oh, Bilbo! Thank you." Dori kissed him, a light comfortable peck on the lips, and took the dessert, only to set it aside as he pulled something from his pack. "I want to give this to you, to make sure you stay warm in the mountains."

Dori unfolded an oilskin coat of a wonderful ochre brown that fell to mid-thigh on Bilbo. "I hope it fits. I sneaked some measurements from your jacket and I gave it a little more room to wear over your other clothing. The elven tailor did a fine job, if I do say so."

"Dori! It's beautiful." Simple runic embroidery decorated the edges that Bilbo recognized as Dori's own handiwork. When had he had time? He pulled on the jacket and it fit wonderfully. Then Dori wrapped Bilbo's neck up with a bright red scarf, one Bilbo had seen Dori working on before they'd begun their mating. 

"This, I made for you of my own hands."

Bilbo was touched, and a warm seed sprouted in his heart that threatened to make him cheer or dance or perform some other silly show of gratitude. Instead, he flung his arms around Dori's shoulders and drew him down for a thankful kiss. Their tongues swirled around each other, fanning the heat stewing in Bilbo's lower belly. He pulled back, pressing his forehead against Dori's, pausing to catch his breath. "Dori, I love it. Thank you." Thank you for taking care of me, he meant. Dori, he thought, probably understood.

Dori finished his cupcake as Bilbo helped with the Company's meal. They ate and washed up in record time, then began their march again, Thorin leading them into the rocky pass.

~~~

The minute the storm changed—the howl of the wind took on a deeper timbre, the velocity gusted to uprooting speeds, and the mountain shifted under their feet—Bilbo recognized what was happening. In fact, _Giants of the Northern Mountains_ , explained very well these signs of a giant battle. He felt his teeth grow sharp, though this was not a foe he could defend against.

"We must turn back," he yelled into the screaming gusts. "We have to stop! Thorin!"

Thorin, ahead by four Dwarves, marched on, head bowed low against the sleeting wind. Bilbo yanked Balin's jacket and yelled into the Alpha's ear. "We have to stop. This is a giant battle! Tell Thorin!" Balin shook his head, leaned forward with his ear towards Bilbo, who yelled his warming one more time, voice already growing thick. Eyes wide, Balin nodded and passed the message onto Fili. Then onto Dwalin. And finally Thorin peered through the near white-out down the line of Dwarves to Bilbo. His mouth moved. Bilbo shook his head. All he could hear was the gale beating them about as they clung to the side of the mountain. Thorin spoke again, slowly. Bilbo made out, "You sure?"

He nodded. And then held out his hand, showing the elongating claws. Danger lurked nearby and his Alpha transformation was coming on. Of course he was sure! He wouldn't have brought it up if he wasn't. After much maneuvering, the trail of Dwarves turned about and retreated a half-mile to a cave hollowed out near the pathway. 

Thorin was the last to enter the safety of the cave, beating the coating of snow off his thick fur jacket and out of his hair. The Dwarves hovered within the relative safety of surrounding stone, a kind of desperate exhaustion clinging to their limp limbs.

"What now?" Gloin asked with a relieved sigh. "We hide out here 'till the storm passes?" He didn't seem too annoyed at sheltering in the cave.

"Bilbo says it's a storm giant battle," Balin explained, frozen eyebrows halfway up his brow.

Everyone turned to look at Bilbo, and he nodded. "Storm giants," he repeated, voice heavy with his transformation. “The signs are all there.” 

"I thought I saw a form, huge, pull from the mountain side," Kili said, causing another uproar amongst the gathering.

Bilbo didn't pay him much attention, instead he worried that his body wasn't returning to normal now that they were safe within the cave. He wanted to go over to Thorin and pull him from the cave mouth, but stuck near Dori's side instead. Nori was inside and safe, so was Oin. He tried to convince himself to calm down, the Omegas were safe, the giants were farther up the mountain, but that wasn't working. Agitated, he left Dori and began pacing the cave, poking around in the crevices and tiny rat tunnels branching off from the main cavern. 

A smell. Rancid and bitter to the nose, hit him. He got down on all fours, sniffing, scrambling at a loose section of wall. His tail twitched uncontrollably, weighed down by his new coat. Stones slid down into a hole, tiny pebbles and dirt, and recognition tumbled him over like a strike from a Billy goat.

"Goblins!" Bilbo hissed at the hole.

"Where?" Dwalin charged forward, axe in hand. Others followed, weapons at the ready. Bifur poised his spear at the hole.

Bilbo's tail whipped out from under the oilskin, catching Bifur on the hip, his claws and nails fully elongated. With his large eyes, he scanned every corner he could see, each shadowed and offering little detail. Sweat dripped down his brow, though the air was freezing. 

"Caught between a giant storm and a Goblin nest," Nori said, knives aimed low so as not to stab his companions. "A nice piece of business we've settled here."

Outside the wind roared; snow and ice flashed past the cave entrance in a horizontal race across the face of the mountain. Another rumble, the cave shook. 

Thorin met Bilbo's gaze. "We stay here, with a full watch on the Goblin hole. Cover it up again, bury it under more stone than it had been. Bofur, help them to assure its stability and strength. Another watch on the mouth, we don’t need to be trapped. Keep quite. No fires. Cold rations." The Dwarves grumbled. "Smoke might bring the Goblins to us. When the giants are quiet, we go."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Thorin stood guard near the entrance, watching the storm reach frenzied levels of destruction. A mountain sheep flew by, tossed in the wind, its body a ragdoll amidst the airborne trees and boulders. Any one of those could have hit his Company as they clung to the tiny ledge they'd been matching along. It would have been disaster.

Bofur handed Thorin some cold bread and cheese. He tore into the bread with his teeth, watching the darkening sky. Filling, but not satisfying in the least. He'd become spoiled. Kili came to his side and touched his arm. He rolled his shoulders back and stared out into the storm. "Go inside, Uncle, and rest a bit. I'll watch."

Thorin nodded to his nephew; his eyes were beginning to sting from the icy wind. Inside, once his sight adjusted to the darkness, Thorin saw that Bilbo had not moved from his self-appointed station at the Goblin's back entrance. Hunched over, staring in the direction of the hole, Bilbo's tail twitched, a whiplash back and forth. Agitated. At the ready.

Beautiful like a steppe cat. Deadly and wild.

On a stone near Bilbo sat Dori and Nori, but not too close. Dori munched on some cheese, leaning close to his middle brother. Nori took a swig from a water skin, then stood to refill it with fresh snow from the drift at the cave entrance. Dwalin and Ori were practically snuggling together in a nook out of the wind. Ori looked to be sleeping. All of them were soaked through. Well, maybe not Bilbo since he had his sturdy new oilskin, though his hair was a sodden miss. Water dripped into the Hobbit's eyes that he continued to wipe away with the back of his hand.

Thorin went to his pack and pulled out three handkerchiefs he'd gotten from the Elves. Mostly dry, which he counted as a blessing from Mahal. If a slight one. He strode over to Bilbo, ignoring the scowl the Alpha gave him. 

"Here," Thorin said, handing over the handkerchiefs. "Use these, not your hand," he mock-scolded, as if propriety of the sort mattered to Thorin. 

Bilbo looked down at the handkerchiefs, huge eyes widening after a moment of contemplation. "For me?" he asked.

"Of course."

Bilbo's toothy grin caused Thorin's chest to constrict. The Hobbit's large eyes softened as he took the handkerchiefs and dabbed at his forehead, cheeks and nose, a dainty gesture that fit oddly with his fierce talons. Maybe not so wild. "Thank you." He half bowed in his sitting position and stuffed the handkerchiefs into an inside coat pocket. "Go away now."

Thorin raised one eyebrow; he did not move.

Bilbo huffed, snorting through his nose. "Please. Away from—" he gestured at the dark hole. He licked his lips, a quick, darting motion. "It's making me… anxious." The slurred word barely fit through the Hobbit's slight muzzle. His tail flicked.

"I am sure I am in no danger with you on guard, Bilbo," Thorin said, nearly as surprised at the words as Bilbo was. He hadn't intended to say them, though he felt it deep in his core. He frowned, got up, and left, feeling the heat of Bilbo's gaze burning into his back.

By the hint of night, the sound of stone clashing against stone ceased. The storm giant battle seemed to have come to an end, though the normal storm still blared along the mountainside. The Company poked their heads out in exploratory forays to gauge the lessening of the wind. Bifur retreated from the storm and announced he no longer felt an electrical zing from the axe in his head. 

"Let's go," Bilbo insisted, tugging on Thorin's arm. "The giants—" he licked at the air, "—are done. We leave." Bilbo had remained in his Alpha transformation the entire day. His grip was vice tight on Thorin's upper arm. Every one of the Company watched the two, silent and waiting.

Thorin scowled. The weather was still ferocious and night had fallen. The pathway had been a narrow ledge, priming any of them for a tumble over the edge. "We shall stay the night and leave as soon as light breaks." Outside, snow fell. "We'll put a double guard on the hole. Will that appease?" he said in a lower tone, aborting reaching up to brush the Hobbit's face with his hand. 

Bilbo shook his head, but muttered, "Fine," and went to perch next to the hole once more, shoulders hunched in defeat. 

Thorin went to Dori, briefly squeezing the other Dwarf's shoulder. "Has he eaten?" he asked. 

"A little. Not as much as he normally would. I think it is his teeth." Dori glanced over at Bilbo, a furrow etched in his brow. "I don’t think he can chew well. Maybe I should make him a broth."

"Please. He's going to wear himself out. I'll take guard with him."

"Good luck. He won't let me sit by his side… protecting Omegas and all." Dori stood and began building a small fire to heat up some water for a broth. The Dwarves surged towards the flames for the warmth. Oin practically set his hands in the fire to warm them up, flexing his fingers against the flames. A hint of smoke trickled from the cave and lost itself in the winds.

Thorin settled himself on the ground next to Bilbo, sword in his lap, eyes on the Goblin hole. Bilbo hissed at him, but kept most of his displeasure tied up in a silent scowl, not voicing his complaints. Good, he was learning. After a few minutes Dori arrived with a bowl of broth. 

"Drink this, Bilbo," Dori said in tones that he mainly reserved for Ori. 

Bilbo looked at the bowl, sniffed it, and Thorin heard the poor Hobbit's stomach growl loud enough to beat the storm outside. He ducked his head in embarrassment, but took the bowl. "Thank you," he managed, then slurped it down, hmming in pleasure. Dori nodded sharply in approval, then sat himself on Bilbo's other side.

Bilbo started, nearly spilling his broth. He began shaking his head. Dori looked confused, then, with a quick glance at Thorin sitting next to the cave wall, he looked hurt. Bilbo growled, set his bowl down, and maneuvered Dori to sit next to Thorin, farther away from the hole. "Can see you both at once," he said, and though still ruffled, finished off his broth.

Dori leaned into Thorin and whispered, "I thought he was going to banish me, but let you stay." 

Thorin had thought the same. But while Thorin was a warrior, Dori was the strongest amongst them and no slouch in a fight. "He seems to have finally gotten it into his thick Hobbit skull that we are not to be coddled."

Dori chuckled. "Finally. While I do understand his instinct is to protect us, I still want to be near him. I think he understands that, too."

Thorin heard the unmentioned "and you want to be near him too," and didn't confirm or deny. He was merely keeping watch on the hole where potential invasion could occur. After a few hours Bifur and Oin took over Thorin and Dori's watch on the hole, but Bilbo could not be convinced to leave it. With Kili and Balin on the cave mouth, Thorin knew he had to get some sleep for their march tomorrow. Eyes on the small Hobbit, he lay down, willing sleep upon him.

~~~

"Get up! To yer feet! Ambush!"

Dori leapt from his bedroll, reaching for his sword, eyes immediately shifting towards Bilbo. His Alpha was crouched by the hole, facing away from the buried tunnel toward Bofur, who called out from the cave mouth. 

Goblins were pushing in from the outside.

Hefting his sword, Dori sliced at a Goblin that had launched over Gloin's head and landed neat as a fiddle at Dori's feet. Dori gouged a chunk from the Goblin's side. It slumped to the floor, losing a torrent of blood as it screeched in agony. The Goblins moved fast, and soon the cave was strangled with the foul little creatures. Swords clashing, the sounds of battle drowned out all other thoughts. Dori swung, eyes open for Ori and for Bilbo. Ori had Dwalin at his back and the pair beat off two Goblins that were trying to pierce Thorin with spears. Bilbo was clawing the eyes out of another Goblin, whose screams seemed to come through a film of mud, muted by age.

With the edge of his blade, Dori carved a path to Nori. He sliced through another Goblin, a short thing with spindly limbs, and Dwalin simultaneously decapitated it, the head soring through the small cave to smack against the wall. Dori sought out another opponent.

None. The Dwarves shifted around, weapons at the ready. Bilbo sniffed the air, then shrieked, spinning around, his tail twisting to keep his balance, as Goblins burst out of the barricaded hole.

"To the rear! It was a diversion!" Gloin called out. But the diversion had worked and the upper wall crumbled, stones landing atop Bilbo's shoulders and back as the Goblins charged forth. The Dwarves tried to stand their ground, but the mass of Goblin flesh pushed them from the cave to save themselves. Bilbo remained, slashing and biting, culling the forward charge of Goblins as best as he could.

"Bilbo!" Dori cried out, his words barley reaching his own ears as he tried to wade through the Goblins to get to his Alpha, his mate. "Bilbo! Come on!" 

Bilbo snatched a glance at him, but the Goblin horde forced his attention back to his battle. He took a step back, retreating pace by pace.

A Goblin blade came down from Dori's right, cutting into his arm. Pain lanced his vision, making everything go white in a flash, then a dagger sunk hilt deep in the Goblin's temple. Nori popped up by Dori's side. "Dori, let's get! We gotta leave." His brother grabbed Dori's arm, but Dori shrugged him off, grasping onto his bloodied wound, and blocked another Goblin blade with the length of his own.

"Retreat!" someone roared. Dori thought it was Dwalin. Had Thorin fallen? He had no time to spare for his co-Omega as Bilbo fell under the mass of Goblins, then he was up again, clawing along the side of a huge Goblin bigger than Thorin. 

"Brothers, there are too many!" Ori screamed out. "We have to leave!"

"But Bilbo, we can't leave Bilbo!" Every protective Omega instinct drove Dori to push forward, trading slice for slice with the filthy Goblin scum. Then someone grabbed him in the middle and hoisted him up.

"No!" he cried. Ori's grip on him was noose-tight and though Dori struggled, he could not free himself. Nori protected their retreat as Dori fought his brother, curses falling from his lips. "Bilbo! _Bilbo_!" Panic pounded in Dori's ears.

Bilbo. Where was his mate?

Goblins were everywhere. The cave floor was littered with their bodies. Blood soaked everything and Nori slipped down to one knee, taking a blade to the shoulder. How was this happening? Ori yanked Dori out of the cave mouth along the thin ledge. The other Dwarves were here, guarding their escape. 

Then Dori saw Thorin, struggling against Dwalin's grip, screaming, spitting venom at the Goblins, at Dwalin. And in the other Omega's eyes, Dori saw that Bilbo had not escaped.

~~~

Feral in their ferocity, the Dwarves defended their foothold on the thin ledge, Bifur knocking the vermin off with his long boar spear. Then Gandalf showed, staff raised high, casting a light upon the Goblins causing them to cower in fear as the Dwarves cut them down like dried fall grains. Soon, the swath of Goblin's ceased its surge. Thorin continued to roar for Bilbo, his voice going hoarse; Dori's heart caved in on itself. 

Everywhere. He looked everywhere. Bilbo. His Alpha. The one he would bond with. Was gone.

Where had Gandalf been? Why had Dori let Bilbo out of his sight? Damn Ori for dragging him out!

His last vision of Bilbo was of him scrambling up the flesh wall of that huge Goblin. Then nothing. He'd defended them. He'd tried so _hard_ to defend them.

The Dwarves suffered injuries uncountable, but the weather was hard and they could not still their march across the mountain pass. They collected what gear hadn't been destroyed in the battle. Little of their food survived. Worse, they were without their burglar and they could not look for him. Any delay would mean their end.

A red trail in the snow marked the passage of the Dwarves.

~~~

Someone handed Dori a flask, and he took a swig. Whiskey. Biting and hot as it dragged down his throat. He stirred from his daze. Dwalin. Dori nodded up at him as the liquid hit his empty stomach.

Bilbo must be hungry, wherever he was. He hadn't eaten anything substantial for—two days now.

The storm had ended. Dori shivered; the night sky was cloudless and held in no warmth. His bedroll had been lost. Ori and Nori had dug out a recess in a snow drift and had stuffed him inside. Other Dwarves had also taken such refuge; Fili and Kili huddled together in their own snow fort under a blood encrusted blanket. They all shared what they had.

"Dori, how are you holding up?" Dwalin squatted and the two were eye to eye.

Dori didn't want to say anything empty, hollow, a platitude. His Alpha was gone. So, he just looked at Dwalin, and let the other Dwarf read the truth on his features.

Dwalin gripped Dori's shoulder, squeezed, then got up to walk toward a lone figure facing the pathway, back the way they'd come during their day's forced march. At first Thorin had insisted they go back for Bilbo, but Dwalin and Balin convinced him they must go forward. For his nephews. For Erebor. That Bilbo would not be back there in that cave. He had probably escaped of his own skills, back down the hole or out onto the mountain.

Dori thought it a ridiculous tall tale. Thorin, watchful, apparently gave it more credence.

The two talked. Dori closed his eyes, thinking back to his times with Bilbo. The lightness he felt when Bilbo was near. The laughter. The passion. 

The love.

How, during his heat between the moments of mating, Bilbo and he would wrap up in silky blankets and talk. Talk about tea, or fine fabrics, their families and friends. He learned so much about Bilbo's cousins and his place in the Shire. Dori told Bilbo of Nori's illegal proclivities and how he was sure Ori was not as innocent as he played at. Bilbo would listen, attentive. They shared poetry. Bilbo sang him songs he'd written himself. 

Dori squished up his face, inhaled once, released the quavering air.

Footsteps crunched in the snow and Dori opened his eyes. Thorin stood before him, then he too squatted. "Move over, I'm coming in."

Thorin settled himself in the hollow of snow with Dori, his body heat welcome, and the two sat in silence until the night passed.

~~~

Another day of marching and the pass was a half day behind them. Gandalf lead the way, his long legs digging a pathway through the snow. The descent killed Thorin's knees, but he wasn't going to be the one complaining. Oin had tried to tend to their wounds, but his medical kit had been trampled by a score of feet and there was little the doctor could do. Their cuts had crusted over, the deeper wounds bound by scarves and strips of clothing none of them could readily relinquish in the biting cold.

A small furry head popped up from a pile of rocks and eeped. A stone stuck the animal in the head and Ori ran over to collect it. It was the third one he'd killed. Not much meat on the critters, but at least they wouldn't starve, and with the abundance of snow, they had enough water.

They weren't on the very lip of survival, just close enough to peek over into the crevasse below. 

Thorin found himself gravitating toward Dori. The fine Dwarf tramped along, body moving of its own volition. He responded little, but didn't lag. The group kept him to the middle of their numbers, Ori and Nori corralling him in when he looked ready to stray from the path.

So, Thorin slowed his pace and walked by Dori's side. The other Dwarf would sometimes touch his shoulder to Thorin's, and Thorin would respond with the same gesture. A kind of companionable nudge to say, "Yes, I understand your pain." In this, they were comrades beyond the others.

And Thorin did feel pain. Tremendous pain. He ached for the loss of Bilbo and he hadn't even mated with his Alpha. He hadn't fully accepted him. How must Dori be feeling right now? Thorin didn't even want to speculate the hollow, gaping morass of loss Dori must be feeling.

Camp that night allowed for a fire and the roasting of the pika. Kili had shot a bird, a huge eagle of some sort, and they'd plucked and roasted that as well. Three lagomorphs and one bird did not feed thirteen Dwarves and a Wizard, but they would make do. Thorin rolled his shoulder where he'd taken his deepest cut. The flesh had gone red with infection. He scrubbed it out with snow, gritting at the sting. The rest of his Company were just as bad.

"Here, Thorin. Ya need to eat." Bofur gave Thorin a charred pika, who handed it to Dori. 

"Eat," Thorin said, his gruffness unintentional, but he worried for the Omega.

Dori stared at the meat, face lax, and shook his head. "You eat it, Thorin. I'm not hungry."

Thorin's stomach growled, a low rumble that he ignored. "You need to keep up your strength." He sat down next to Dori. Though Thorin wasn't the most compassionate of Omegas, he still hated to have his friend in such heartache. As Dwalin watched in disbelief, Thorin rubbed his cheek along Dori's shoulder, a companionable gesture of marking meant to sooth. Dori leaned into him and nuzzled back. Then remembering times with his own mother, how her scent had given him comfort when his grandfather had fallen to the sickness, he released some of his scent. Dori sniffled, buried his face in his knees and leaned heavily against Thorin's side. Nori settled on Dori's other side, releasing his own scent. Omega pheromones surrounded the three, not the smell to entice a mate, but the scent to sooth the heart. All of the Company relaxed. Dwalin closed his eyes briefly, and nodded at Thorin. Thorin held out the meat again and Dori took a tiny leg and nibbled off the flesh, setting the bone down on the ground beside him. 

Silently, nestled in between Thorin and Nori, Dori finally wept.

~~~

"There are trees out there!" Bofur shouted, waving his arms wildly through the air. "We're nearly off this stinking, icy desolation!" 

The Company's speed picked up and they trotted toward the outcropping of trees and grasses on the eastern side of the mountain, far away from the raging storms of the west. Purple and pink flowers spread across the ground like a painted carpet.

Once on the ridge, Thorin looked out over the endless river valley and forest, and peeking up over the edge of Mirkwood: the Lonely Mountain.

"I wish Bilbo was here to see it," he said. 

The wind was anything but kind and it cut into Thorin's eyes, causing them to water. He inhaled. The air smelled of melted snow and damp earth. Freedom and light.

Dori, always by his side, hmmed in thought. "I think the sight would duly impress him." Then he chuckled, a sorrowful sound. "He'd be in quite a fuss, trying to figure out how to get us there with the least amount of danger and as quickly as possible."

Thorin agreed with a quiet laugh. "I probably should have let him map out our pathway."

"Oh, we might have never left the Shire then. That seems to be the safest place in all of Middle-earth." Dori faced Erebor, his hollow pain no longer threatening to waste him away. Thorin was glad for that. He enjoyed the Dwarf's company and stalwartness. "Would you…?" Dori began. "Would you have publically accepted him? As your Alpha? Even with me in the picture?"

Though it remained unsaid, Thorin's reaction declared his own heart in the matter when Bilbo had disappeared. Thorin spun up an image of the future, with him and Dori and Bilbo, all three somehow mated. Living together. Loving each other in their own ways.

His Omega side had completely accepted Bilbo as his Alpha. His king side, though, still wasn't sure about sharing. He looked over at Dori, who waited patiently for an answer, for the truth. The wind battled strings of silver across the Dwarf's handsome face. Thorin still didn't have any truth to give him.

"I would have given it a trial. Before committing to anything, I would have at least given it a trial."

Dori nodded in acceptance to Thorin's answer. "He would have liked that. To know…how you felt."

But he wouldn't know. Ever.

"Shall we make camp here, Thorin, or keep going?" Bombur asked, his pack full of cooking supplies that had stalwartly stood up against the Goblin attack. Kili had killed a hare and Ori another pika. Their stores were limited and he hated to waste any daylight. They were all exhausted, but he wanted to make more distance, get off of this blasted mountain to more lucrative hunting grounds. Gandalf waited for Thorin's answer, his own expression touched by personal loss, leaning against his tall staff. 

"We shall march on. We need to make for forage and better hunting." The Dwarves agreed and they began to trek down the treacherous passage that descended the mountain side.

Then the wind changed. Thorin and Dori lifted their noses, whiffed the air. 

"Do you smell that?" Dori asked.

The two Omegas exchanged one look and both of them turned and charged back up the mountain.

"Where ya going?" Bofur cried out.

Neither Dwarf had time to answer. They'd caught a scent on the air, tasted it on the roof of their mouths. Thorin had longer legs, but Dori was fueled by a determination that kept him side by side with the king.

"Where? Blasted, I lost the smell!" Dori began to curse.

Thorin whiffed again, taking in the air and pheromones. The scent had been distant, faint, but they'd both smelled it. It was Alpha scent. It was Bilbo.

Other Dwarves followed them back up. Soon Kili was by Thorin's side, and then Dwalin. "It's Bilbo," Thorin said without any prompting. "He's here somewhere."

The Company searched the mountainside. The scent elusive and only stirring strong enough when the wind shifted from the northwest. Dori scrambled up and up, rocks tumbling down from his footfalls, until he found a small chasm. His call pulled Thorin in at a fierce pace. Ignoring his injuries, Thorin leapt over rocks, bounded around other Dwarves. 

"He's here!" Dori screamed. "Help me, Thorin. He's down there. I can't reach him."

Bilbo, his small crumpled form, was sprawled at the foot of the chasm wrapped up in Dori's oilskin gift. No longer in Alpha transformation, Bilbo's face was pale and covered in blood.

"Stay here, I'll climb down—" Thorin began but was cut off by Dori's, "Ori! We need you!"

Dori shook his head at Thorin. "Your arm is injured. Ori's a little scamp; he can get down there safely."

Without rope it was a challenge to get Ori down into the narrow ravine, but he was eager to collect their burglar and made his delicate way from one jutting rock to the next. Once his feet were steady on the stones, he felt for Bilbo's pulse. "He's alive!" he roared, and the Dwarves cheered. Dori slumped against Thorin, scent of relief and worry flooding the air. Bilbo stirred. Ori picked him up, carefully like he would handle a babe, and passed him up to Dori, who scooped up Bilbo and cradled him to his chest.

"Bilbo, my love. Bilbo, you're safe. Oh Mahal, you're safe." Dori rocked him, brushing his cheek against the Hobbit's, scent marking him. On instinct, Thorin wrapped his arms around the other two, wanting to be close to his Alpha, close to his co-Omega. He gently marked Bilbo with the scent glands at his wrist, then pressed his forehead to Dori's and together they stared down at their broken, but alive, Hobbit.

The howl of a warg shattered their celebration.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Beorn's.

Chapter 12

"To the trees!" Gandalf's voice bellowed over the distraught gasps and cries of the Dwarves.

Thorin cursed as the Dwarves scrambled toward the scattered evergreens clustered near the cliff side, Bilbo tight in Dori's arms. Dwalin leaped up to a low branch of one pine and swung himself up on his belly, leaning over to grab his brother then Nori and Ori. Oin and Gloin took to another tree. Bofur and Gandalf scrambled up a third, with Bifur trailing them close on their heels. Bombur took to the farthest tree he could, that had larger branches lower to the ground. Dori, arms full of Bilbo, chased after Fili and Kili, who climbed a tree like young weasels, crawling over each other to get higher, then reaching down to haul Dori up, who would not relinquish his hold of Bilbo's limp body. That tree was full, so Thorin threw himself toward a higher branch on a smaller neighboring tree. His fingers caught the rough bark; he held tight. His shoulder screamed from the jerking motion, tearing open his slowly healing wound.

The wargs burst onto the plateau, feral snarls as fear inducing as their sharp teeth. The pony-sized beasts charged towards the trees, throwing their paws against the trunks in an attempt to shake the Dwarves straight into their ready jaws. 

"We'll have none of that!" Gandalf scolded, then ripped a pinecone from its branch and with the help of his staff, blew fire onto the cone. "Kili, catch!" He tossed the burning cone to Thorin's nephew and Kili bounced it from hand to hand like forge-hot metal, until he was able to take a firm grip of the projectile, and hurled it at a gray warg. The beast shrieked as its fur flared up in flames.

More blazing cones rained upon the gathering of wargs, their Goblin riders slicing at the missiles pelting their mounts' fur. Charred hair mingled with the scent of pine pitch and fear. “Uncle,” Fili shouted, pointing at a second wave of wargs.

"More are coming," Ori gasped, filling the cup of his slingshot with a stone from a leather pouch at his belt.

The fire caught the nearby trees, licking along the lower branches, hopping up from limb to limb. Thorin watched in dismay. Beyond the flames, a pale Orc came forward on a white warg. Scars latticed across the Orc's skin, one arm missing. Thorin knew the history of that arm, knew the hate in those light eyes. Azog.

"You should be dead!" Thorin's blood ran cold, his body going lax with shock.

"Dwarf King," Azog growled in Westron. "Will you not come out and face me. Weak, puny Dwarf."

The fire ate at the trees closest to the wargs, and it chewed its way to the tree-bound Dwarves. They were trapped, well and truly. Azog lifted his arm, a heavy mace griped tight in his fist, while the stump of his other arm had a hook imbedded in the flesh. "Come down and finish our battle."

"Thorin, no," Dori said. 

"Ori, Kili, take out his eyes if you can." And before anyone could stop him, Thorin swung down from the tree, Orcrist at the ready, knuckles white from strain. He strode out through the flames, the heat spurring the air into a whirlwind, blowing his hair from his face. The smoke stung his eyes.

His Company had to get out of those trees. To remain was doom.

"I will battle you, Azog. And if I win, your Orcs will leave my Dwarves and go back to the foul pit they came from." Not that he truly believed this filth would keep any word it gave, but he could _not_ do nothing.

"I will not lose. And when I take your head, I'll have the head of every one of them." Azog aimed his mace towards the burning trees and Thorin's trapped Company. 

Thorin strode forward and time slowed down. Around him, the Dwarves called out, the Orcs jeered, but it all came from far away. The fire blazed, but all Thorin had eyes for was the pale Orc. Azog. His enemy. Thorin hefted Orcrist, twirled it in a flourish, useless but eye-catching, drawing Azog to him. "Well, let us finish this, then."

Circling around Thorin, still mounted on his huge warg, Azog narrowed his pale eyes as his gathering of Orcs pounded their weapons against each other and the wargs snarled to their lord's victory. Thorin stepped forward, then feigned to the right, only to lash out at the left paw of the great riding beast. Above him, the hiss of the mace slicing through the air warned Thorin to dodge. Pain sprang in his side from an earlier Goblin wound as he rolled over the ground. He gritted his teeth, blinking away the distraction as his body automatically took to his feet.

A flaming cone crashed into the white warg's coat and she reared, toppling Azog to the ground as she dropped to the dirt, trying to grind the fire out into the churned earth. Azog cursed in his dark tongue as Thorin's blade pierced his gut. The Orc stormed to his feet, mace swinging down to pummel Thorin in the side, as the hook came across from the left. Pain blinded Thorin as the mace slammed into him. A dark tunnel clouded his sight. He could feel the hook coming, knew Azog's weapon was descending upon him, coming from above, ready to strike him down. He swayed to his feet, bringing Orcrist up to block, but Azog's slash never landed. Sparks shattered the air. 

Azog's strike was halted by another blade. 

Wetness pasted his shirt to his side. Throin shook his head, blinking his eyes to clear his vision. The edges were blurry, his stomach sour from his dizziness. Dori stood over him, sword gripped in both hands, holding Azog off as Bilbo, poor, tired, broken Bilbo, had leapt on Azog's back and was reaching around the Orc's face to claw out his eyes.

A stone pelted Azog in the face. An arrow pierced his chest. The Orc grew frantic, scraping at the frenzied beast on his back with his hook. From the torched trees, the cry of Dwarves rallied Thorin to lift Ocrist once more. Dori slide his sword along the Orc's foul mace, the blade homing in for the hardened flesh of Azog's chest. The mace tore from Dori's blade and came swinging wide, crashing into Thorin's skull, and before his mind met the black, he heard the shrill cry of an eagle.

~~~ 

Propped up against a basalt stone, Dori pulled Thorin's back closer to his chest, wrapping his arm around his co-Omega's front. Thorin's thick furred cloak covered them, only Dori's sides peeking out from its edge. Though Dori was immobile, his nerves fired in a frenzy. He buried his nose in Thorin's hair and breathed his soothing Omega scent. Again. Again. Slowly, the shakes began to subside.

Thorin wasn't just any other Omega, he was Dori's co-Omega. 

Unheard of, actually. But Dori had accepted it over these last few days. Mahal had carved all three of them from the same stone. Bilbo and Thorin were his mates, in heart if nothing else.

With gentle fingers, Dori checked on the bandage around Thorin's head: strips of cotton ripped from Dori's own tunic. Good thing Dwarves had such hearty bones, it could have been worse. Much worse. Once the eagles deposited them upon the Carrock, he and Oin had bandaged Thorin up as well as could be, but the blood had been hard to staunch and they had little supplies. Now, in the open near the river in the valley, the wind cut through their still wet clothing, chilling them all. He had to keep Thorin warm. 

Dawn just slunk in and the other Dwarves were rustling around the camp, cleaning their clothing in the river and braving the near freezing temperatures. A small fire crackled nearby. Dori should get up and scrub out his own clothing, covered in blood from Dwarf and Hobbit. Orc as well. He shifted his shoulder, still hurting where a warg had bitten him, the pain mingling with his other cuts and bruises. Still, it wasn't so bad. Not like Thorin.

He was the most injured of them all.

Dori's eyes dropped to the lump pressed to Thorin's front, hidden under the great furred cloak. Well, maybe Thorin wasn't the most injured. A dreadful pain gripped Dori's chest as he thought about Bilbo. Bilbo's shoulder swollen, maybe broken if Oin was right. Bruises crossed his body, giving him a history only old Dwarves could have boasted. The coat, luckily, has saved Bilbo from a lot of superficial damage. Dori had never been more happy he'd commissioned the garment. Bilbo had fought like a steppe cat until the eagle had lifted him from Azog's back and when they'd all been laid upon the Carrock, Dori's small Alpha was as dull to the world as Thorin. 

Dori hoped their scents would sooth each other. 

He crawled out from under the cloak, tucking it around Thorin and Bilbo, and staggered to the river. He only stumbled a few times over the large rocks bordering the Anduin River. Nori greeted him with a grunt, bare to his smalls, scrubbing his trousers against a stone. With braced dread, Dori stripped. The water was frightful as Dori waded in, quickly dunking his bare body and scrubbing away with a handful of gray sand. Both wounds on his arm oozed, one blood from the bite, another puss from a Goblin sword. He washed away the fluids until the puss ran clear.

Scarcely cleaner, he hopped from the river and squatted next to his brother to work on his own clothing.

"How are they?" Nori asked. Dori's brother's hair was a complete mess and he had a bruise purpling his ribs. Nobody got out of that battle unscathed.

"Alive," Dori said with a sigh. His feet had gone numb. That seemed to be a more favorable sensation than what he felt before. Maybe he should hold his entire body under the river to kill some of the pain.

"Well, that's half the battle," Nori said, trying to add some optimism to his tone, but Nori had never been good at false optimism. Or optimism in general.

"If you say so. We need to find somewhere safe and dry. We need food." He lifted his head and sought out Balin. Certainly he would lead them now. Or Gandalf. Probably the Wizard.

"Kili and Fili went hunting. Hopefully they'd catch something soon." Nori stood and shook out his trousers, then scrambled over the rocks to lay his clothing on the ground. The sun peeked over the edge of the eastern horizon, sending rays of light over the flat landscape. Nori scooped up his shirt and applied it to the stones and water. Dori grabbed his own and frowned at the sword cut in the sleeve. Luckily, he always carried needle and thread. They continued to wash their clothing in silence, Dwalin arriving by their sides to scrub down his own blood-coated clothes. 

Once done, Dori, still naked, laid his clothing on the stones to dry and returned to Thorin's back, to hold him close and steal some of his warmth. Thorin groaned, his brow furrowing. Dori, shivering, petted his king's forehead until Thorin's agitation eased. Bilbo remained motionless. Just a bundle of Hobbit, small and so so delicate. 

Oin came by and felt for Thorin's temperature, then Bilbo's. Bilbo mewled in his sleep and Dori nearly smacked Oin's hand away, but kept himself in check.

"Bilbo's got a fever, probably some infection. Thorin seems to have a normal temperature. We just need to have him wake up."

By midday, Dori had donned his still wet trousers and went about collecting firewood. Bifur had made a rack and propped it near the fire. The rest of the Dwarves hung their clothes from the support. During his scrounging of wood, Dori recognized some of the plants Bilbo had been collecting for them throughout their journey, and picked some ginger and dug enough camas root to stuff in his pockets. He looked for Bilbo's special leaves he'd pickle, but then Dori realized Bilbo was without his pack as well, and all of his special herbs and vinegar were lost. Gone. Everything, gone.

"Dori! Dori, come quick!" Nori called out. 

Dori spun around immediately. Nori didn't get excited about anything. Something must be terribly wrong. More wargs? Had Bilbo died? 

He flung his armload of sun bleached sticks to scatter near the fire and dropped to his knees near the bundle of Hobbit and Dwarf. Nori and Bofur hovered nearby, bodies nearly popping with excitement. Bilbo was sitting up, eyes squinted against some pain. A goose egg knot protruded from his temple. His eyes widened when he saw Dori.

"Dori! You're okay! You're—" Tears leaked from Bilbo's eyes as he scrambled up to his feet, throwing off the heavy cloak, swaying and stumbling to keep his balance. Dori would not stand for that. He reached for Bilbo and pulled him tight against his bare chest, gently. It almost shocked him to feel how small Bilbo was in his arms. Fragile, like a bird. But his Alpha was warm. So warm. And he was scenting the air, which Dori responded to. A mixture of scents to assure and re-establish bonds. It was a scent he instinctively knew bonded mates made when they were apart for long periods. But they were not bonded. His body didn't seem to consider that with his Alpha in his arms.

"Bilbo, I'm here. And I'm okay. You need to be careful, though. You've been battered. And Thorin's still unconscious, but he'll live." He peppered Bilbo with light kisses, one as gentle as possible over the swelling on his head. 

Bilbo stared down at Thorin, eyes wide, mouth in a heart-breaking twist of worry. "Will he be okay?"

Dori studied Bilbo's face and shook his head. "I want to say yes. Oin said we just have to wait for him to wake up. Come on, let's get some cold on your head and wash you a bit."

They covered Thorin back up and Dori emptied his pockets, piling the roots up near the fire. With a gentle touch, he and his brother led a mostly unresponsive Bilbo to the Anduin's edge, helping him over the scattered of ankle-twisting stones. Dori carefully slid Bilbo's coat off his shoulders and he came to life, pulling something from the pocket and stuffing it in his pants pocket. Nori left when Dori began to remove Bilbo's shirt and trousers, angry and sorrowful at the terrible ruin of his Alpha's body. Along his left shoulder a stain of black spread, red at the edges and puffy in the center. With gentle strokes, Dori washed down his Alpha's skin, careful of his wounds, and then he scrubbed at Bilbo's clothing while Bilbo shivered, holding a soaked rag to his forehead with his good arm. Dori would take it away, resoak it with new cold water and force Bilbo to press it to his head again.

Bilbo didn't complain once. Then his eyes focused, sharp on something in the river. "There are fish."

Dori looked into the river and saw the flash of Hobbit foot-sized silver-sided fish. "Kili!" Bilbo waved at the young Dwarf. "Bring your bow!"

Soon, they had Kili shooting arrows into the river, missing quite spectacularly. "You have to shoot a little above your target," Gloin offered. "The reflection sets everything askew." 

"This is stupid." Kili scowled and kicked at a fish in the water. 

"Don't scare them," Nori said. "Come on, fish… fresh fish. Just let your stomach aim for ya."

Finally, Kili hit one.

"You did it!" Fili cheered. Kili held the fish up in the air, pierced and wriggling in its death throws, a grin as bright as the campfire flashing across his face. He tossed the fish to the shore and stalked another. In an hour they have seven fish roasting over the fire. Dori and Bilbo were cuddled in front of Thorin, checking on him with militant regularity. Bilbo drippled water into Thorin's mouth. Thorin swallowed. 

Gandalf paced the edge of their camp. Balin and he held a short conference and then Gandalf announced he was going to leave them again.

"I've a friend nearby, who might offer us aid. When you can, make for the northwest, near the forest. I shall return once I've finish with another matter." Gandalf left with a bit of fire-roasted fish, a water skin, and his long staff. And Dori's silent curses. 

By the end of their first evening, they were all clean and dry, had eaten enough to push away the hunger pangs, and Thorin still had not woken up.

~~~

By Bilbo's side, with Thorin's prone form behind them, Dori thought about the scenting they'd done earlier. "Bilbo," Dori said, voice quiet, mingled with the crackling of the banked fire.

Bilbo leaned his right side against Dori, a silent acknowledgement and request for him to continue. His left arm was held in a sling, keeping the strain off his shoulder.

"When you were gone…" His voice cracked and he had to suck in some air to continue. "I thought I had lost you. I can't—I can't lose you, Bilbo. I love you." The words came out a promise and a prayer. "Like no other, I love you. And…"

Bilbo grasped onto Dori's clasped fists. "Dori. I am sorry I worried you." He pressed his cheek to their clasped hands. "I never want to worry you. You are precious to me." He kissed Dori's hand. "You fill my heart in ways that I never thought possible. I had no idea what having my Omega would feel like, and this joy and fulfillment was like nothing I'd ever expected. I love you, too, Dori. So much." He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking, as his face scrunched in some hidden agony.

"Will you bond with me?" Dori asked. He wasn't sure how Thorin would play into this. Would Bilbo bond with him, with the potential for never being able to bond with Thorin? A bond was with one other, no one could sunder it. Dori held his breath, hearing the blood pounding in his head. Waited for the answer.

Bilbo opened his eyes, his face transforming from stricken to delighted. "Yes. Dori, yes. I want that." He launched himself onto Dori, settling into Dori's lap as he pressed his nose along the crook of Dori's neck, where shoulder met throat, where Bilbo would bite when they bonded. Heat flashed through Dori's body. A needy moan curled around them. Bilbo rubbed his check along Dori's neck, scent marking him. A gasp tore from Dori's mouth, and he reflexively sucked in breath and scent, and inside, a wolf of desire began to stir. With quick licks, Bilbo left trails of saliva along the bonding spot. Burying his nose deep into Dori's skin, Bilbo whiffed, quick, sharp inhalations. Even with his aches and pains, his injured arm, the prone form of Thorin behind him, it instilled a instinctive response in Dori and he couldn't stop the cry when Bilbo grazed the area with his teeth. 

Bilbo pulled back, eyes dilated to a ring of copper around a sea of black, mouth open with labored breathing. "I want to bond with you. Be connected to you, forever. I—I had wanted to ask sooner, but things got…" he circled his head, looking at the huddled group of Dwarves, encasing their challenges over the last few days in his gesture, "crazy." He took Dori's mouth in a kiss. 

Groin against groin, Bilbo wriggled against him, kissing him with such passion. Dori couldn't stop his helpless moan. He hoped nobody was looking at them. He wanted to be with his mate. He needed to. 

"Your next heat? Yes?" Bilbo asked. "I will hit my rut. We can bond then?"

Dori nodded. It could only be done in a rut and Dori wished they hadn't wasted time and had just bonded in Rivendell. But bondings weren't done during a first mating; it didn't always take. "Yes, Bilbo. And we can be one." 

Bilbo growled, then stood abruptly and grabbed Dori's hand. His eyes were pleading, color blossoming on his cheeks. Dori climbed to his feet. They tucked the coat around Thorin and wandered to the river, beyond the edge of firelight "Don't stray too far," Bombur, on watch, called out. At the river, Bilbo turned, face in the shadow of night. Dori couldn't wait. He grabbed at Bilbo's waist and gently pulled him close, pressed his eagerness against his Alpha's. _Oh bliss_. Lips met lips in a frantic dance. The two clung to each other, careful of injuries but driven by passion, fingers clawing at clothing, teeth clacking in clumsy desperation.

Together, they fell to their knees amidst the biting rocks. Dori dug his knees past the rocks into the sand and dirt below. Their penises were pulled from trousers and Bilbo pressed them together in one small hand. Skin on skin, heat on heat. Bilbo's grip felt exquisite. "No slick." Bilbo mouthed against Dori's lips, stating a fact and asking a question.

They'd not had sex outside of their mating. They'd never discussed regular bed play. Another conversation for another day. Dori secured his toes into the earth and thrust his hips, sliding his erection against Bilbo's. 

"Yes," Bilbo hissed. Dori reached around Bilbo, his large hands gripping Bilbo's rear. Bilbo practically climbed up Dori's body, yelping quietly as he bumped his arm, but Dori was strong and could hold up Bilbo as Bilbo stroked their erections together. 

Each pulse of their hips brought Dori closer to completion. He squeezed his eyes closed, gritted his teeth. The ripe scent of Alpha and arousal made him dizzy. Bilbo kept stroking, pulsing his hips in a faster and faster race.

"Close," Dori said through gritted teeth. 

"Hmm, Dori. You're so sexy. And strong. And you're mine," Bilbo nipped at Dori's lips, "always mine and when we're somewhere safe we're going to make love properly." Dori's mind slipped to a time in the future where he and Bilbo would be laid out bare, he would be stretched wide around his Alpha, taking him in. Bilbo would pull pleasures from him and Dori would make Bilbo unravel with desire.

Dori ground his teeth together, willing himself to be quiet as he spilled over Bilbo's racing hand. 

"Oh, Dori," Bilbo purred, and he jerked and stuttered his own release. Not as copious as when they mated, unsurprising, but the sharp scent of their combined semen flamed Dori's dizziness and he set Bilbo down and dropped to his butt, panting, heart pounding.

Bilbo leaned in and nuzzled Dori, marking him again with his scent. Once his world stopped its maddening spin, they washed themselves off in the river, but not before tasting their combined offering. 

Wet now, but sated, they returned to Thorin's side. Their king had not moved. With sorrow pruning his previous elation, Dori settled in behind Thorin's back while Bilbo curled up before them, and they fell into an exhausted slumber.

~~~

Thorin shifted, ascending from a dark and hollow sleep. He was warm, which was pleasant compared to recent memory. But he was constrained. He struggled against the heavy weight behind him, and the weight in front of him. A soft noise, a quiet hmming, stilled him. He whiffed the air, just catching Alpha and Omega…. Bilbo and Dori. He inhaled deeply, their combined scent taking away his unease. He wasn't trapped, he was cradled. He was safe.

Thorin closed his eyes again and returned to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's NaNoWriMo... so I'll be busy on another project, but I won't abandon this one. Good luck to everyone writing away this month!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Anduin's roar dimmed behind them as they followed Gandalf's directions through grasses that, on Bilbo, were nearly shoulder high. Their progress was slow and methodical, but Bilbo wouldn't argue for a swifter pace. His body still felt like a pony herd had trampled it, and Thorin remained unsteady on his feet. Dori was their pillar. He kept them upright and their feet moving them forward, one step at a time.

Their dynamic had changed since Bilbo had been overset with Goblins and had passed through the underground tunnels in darkness and despair. Dori was just as attentive to Thorin as he was to Bilbo, and Thorin seemed to accept the treatment as nothing beyond the pale. Dori's commitment had shifted to him and Thorin instead of his brothers. Not that he was dismissive of his family. Dori could never abandon them. But the change was welcomed and cherished; Bilbo thrived on Dori's constant presence and having both his Omegas by his side.

While they marched through the forest of grass towards Mirkwood, the company of Dwarves, with Kili and Bofur being the most vocal, coaxed Bilbo's story from him. 

Part of him wanted to boast and impress his Omegas. Tell them of how he battled the Goblins, tooth and claw, and vanquished a horde of them. But that wasn't quite the truth. In all honesty, Bilbo didn't remember much of his side adventure, more's the pity. All he could say was that he'd walked alone through darkness and come out the other side—alive. 

Once he'd been torn apart from his Omegas, he'd gone over bestial and couldn't place exactly what happened in what order. He knew he'd been pulled down the hole in the back wall, the chute tumbling down, carrying him away from the mountain's exit to air and sky and his Dwarves. He'd dropped like a stone down an inner hillside, rear over teakettle, and when awareness returned to him, he'd found himself in the lowest caverns of the Misty Mountains, bloodied and bruised.

He didn't want to tell them about his hollowed out core at having lost Dori and Thorin. Failed them. They could have been injured or…dead. It'd taken an act of will only a Took could have summoned up to get back to his feet and march on, praying to the Valar his Omegas and friends were safe somewhere. 

So, he tamed the story down, kept it to the truth, erasing all urge to boast, and worked it to assure they didn't worry.

Then he told them about the creature at the pool.

"What was he?" Kili asked, bracing Thorin as they stumbled through the fields, the lead Dwarves cutting a swath through the grass. 

Bilbo, walking between Thorin and Dori, kept his toes closed so the grasses didn't cut into the flesh between his toes. A sling still swaddled his arm, which put his balance a little off. The nugget on his head didn't help. He reached out and grabbed a golden grasshead, stripping it from its stalk, then dropped the seeds and automatically brushed his fingers over Thorin's arm. "I don’t know. Maybe a Goblin, or maybe even a Hobbit. He was twisted and ruined. And lonely."

"How do you know that?" Dori asked.

Bilbo pressed his lips together and touched his shoulder to Dori's, the contact brief but reassuring. "He wanted to play word games, riddles." He wondered if he should have played fair with the poor beast and had even seen him out of that cavern, back amongst people of some sort. But he probably had years to fade into the corruption that had tainted him and nothing could save him from his own descent into that wretched state. "If he lost, he would show me the exit out of the mountain. If I lost… he'd get to eat me."

Thorin grumbled something that sounded strongly of a growl. Bilbo patted his arm, letting his fingers linger over the worn fabric of Thorin's sleeve. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to let him eat me. I had my sword, don't forget."

"Which you don't know how to use. You need more lessons." Thorin narrowed his eyes at Bilbo, the edges of his lips dipping down, but Bilbo knew he wasn't angry. It was Thorin's mask, worry hidden behind fury. Really, he was only showing Bilbo he cared. So, Bilbo leaned over and pressed his lips to Thorin's shoulder, a quick and contented kiss.

"I shall take lessons, your majesty. But you're recovering. So, just find me an instructor." He lifted and dropped his shoulders, smiling at Thorin. "And I think I need a little rest before we take on anything more than how to hold the thing."

Leaning forward to face Bilbo across Thorin's chest, Kili said, "I'll do it!" The young Dwarf dimpled in excitement. "We can start at the basics. I remember everything Dwalin and the other soldiers taught me at the Blues."

Thorin nodded. "Yes. That will work nicely. Thank you, Kili. About an hour a day at first, we don't want to wear our poor Hobbit out." A tiny smiled tugged at Thorin's lips, all feigned fierceness gone, the expression warm and endearing, and it made Bilbo's heart ache to see. 

That night they stamped down a circle within the endless sea of grass. Earth was torn up to provide a firebreak, and Bombur set a little fire to cook some dried meat and grains in the pot and roast a small pig Ori had struck down with his sling. Bilbo had nothing to offer his Omegas, for which he felt like an utter flop and loaf-about. How could his Omegas support him if he couldn't provide for them? But Oin wouldn't let him roam out within the fields, and with the featureless landscape, Bilbo would probably wind around on an endless path that took him farther and farther away from camp.

Oin slathered the Companies' cuts and scrapes with salve from a jar he'd had in his pocket. Bilbo leaned into the Omega's touch, jerking and flinching whenever the healer's treatment was a little rough. "You need to take better care of yourself," Oin declared , his loud voice carrying as he scrubbed a cut along Bilbo's hip with a washcloth and some water. "You can't take on a pack of Goblins on your own, no matter your protective instincts."

Bilbo offered a contrite, "Yes, Oin," but did Oin think such instincts were something Bilbo could control?

"And if you can't take care of yourself," Oin stopped scrubbing and met Bilbo's eyes, "how can you take care of these two?"

Oh, ouch. "You're right," Bilbo mumbled.

Oin then attended Thorin's injuries. Dori watched from Oin's side, keeping his hands behind his back. Bilbo hovered nearby, wanting to help, but not wanting to be in the way. Oin bapped him off. "You're crowding," he complained, then once he was done with the examination set Bilbo to applying medicine to Thorin's wounds. "So, Bilbo, Dori, you need to keep this cut on Thorin's arm clean."

Thorin huffed, shifting his weight as he leaned away from Oin. "Why are you telling them and not me?"

Oin rolled his eyes. "Because Bilbo, for one, will fret himself into quite the state if he's not included in your care. And," Oin lifted his nose and stared long and hard at Thorin down the length of it, "both your mates will make sure it's done." 

_Both your mates_. Bilbo's breath escaped his lungs, leaving him dazed. Dori rubbed along Bilbo's neck. Bilbo purred and kissed him on the cheek.

Then Kili bounded over to them and bowed. "Ready for your lesson, Master Baggins?" as Oin then turned to Dori's injuries.

Bilbo, hand still covered in the greasy salve he was spreading over a deep laceration across Thorin's already scarred back, nodded. "One moment." He finished up with Thorin, wrapping a strip of his under shirt around Thorin's torso, and gently squeezed his less injured arm. 

Thorin's eyes were bright and soft around the edges. "Follow Kili's instructions."

"I will," Bilbo replied and followed Kili where he'd stamped out a small arena for his training, his mind spinning and heart still at an erratic pace.

Had Oin accepted them and their unconventional relationship?

"Ready?" Kili gestured towards Bilbo's sword.

"Yeah. Ready."

The idea of learning to fight, of protecting Dori and Thorin, of being useful and having skills he could rely on, gave steel to his spine. Their first lesson covered much the same ground that Thorin's impromptu lesson had back in Rivendell. It didn't amount to much more than where to plant his feet—and to not necessarily plant them but to keep moving—and the right angle and strength he should use to wield his sword. By the end of an hour, Bilbo's thighs shook from the strain of holding the warrior's squat. 

Kili slapped him on the back, causing Bilbo to stumble on weak legs and flinch where he'd gotten too close to Bilbo's shoulder. "Great workout, Uncle Bilbo."

Bilbo shot the younger Alpha a look, his heart pumping blood into his face and heating his ears. "Uncle?"

Kili winked at him. "Thorin's accepted you. You're practically family." He strutted away, leaving Bilbo to wonder at the amazing perfection of his life. It all started with a scent and a baker's dozen of Dwarves invading his home. Now, injured, starving, without a scrap of supplies, he didn't think he could be happier.

~~~

After two more days marching through the sea of grass Ori spotted a line of trees. "Are we close then?" Bombur asked. 

"When was Gandalf going to find us again?" Gloin said, low enough that Dori barely heard him from his position in the line behind Thorin. Kili and Fili were pressing their way through the grasses, leading them ever to the northwest per Gandalf's orders. 

Nobody responded to Gloin, and they continued on their trek, the lads slicing through the grasses with their swords, stomping it down under heavily shod feet.

At midday, the sea of chest-high reeds gave way to close cropped fleshy grasses cattle would munch on. A dog barked. Then another. Dori nearly stumbled to his knees when a huge bee buzzed right over his head. Huge! It was larger than a hawk.

"What is that thing?" Nori asked, eyes tracking the fat insect bumbling along.

"A bee?" Bilbo said. "Imagine the honey from that beast." His voice held both awe and reverence, forcing Dori to hide his smile. He remembered, not so long ago, when Bilbo had gathered them thick honey for their porridge, courting them in his own Hobbit way. Of course it would be food. Any other Dwarf would have offered them jewels and gold. Perhaps finely crafted weapons. But a Hobbit offered food, and tea, and poetry readings. Perhaps the Hobbits did it better.

"Someone's there." Oin pointed in the distance. The Company, as one, faced that direction. A huge hairy man loomed near a conical beehive, furred arms crossed over his chest, frown a deterrent as strong as the thick stone walls of Erebor.

"Who are you, who trespass on my lands? Orcs?"

Balin stepped forward, shoulders back and spine stiff. He bowed low at the waist before the giant man. "We are Dwarves of the Blue Mountains. I am Balin, son of Fundin, in the company of Thorin Oakenshield, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King under the Mountain. We were told by our companion, Gandalf the Gray, to await for him in this area and we seek respite from our travels."

The frown deepened. "I don't know you. Or the Gray."

Dori watched as Balin's Adam's apple bobbed. "Perhaps we could pay you for passage and the opportunity to rest in your lands?" Balin asked.

Beside Dori, he heard Bilbo groan slightly, muttering, "No no no." Dori glanced at him, wondering what wheels were spinning in his Alpha's head, then noticed the hint of yellow slashing across his face.

"Bilbo, are we in danger?" he asked. Dori went for his sword.

"I don’t know," Bilbo whined in frustration.

Thorin pulled away from Bilbo, standing tall though Dori knew his king was still swaddled in the weakness of his injuries. He began to march towards Balin's side. Dori watched as the tall man flexed his arms, the huge bulge of his muscles putting any Dwarf to shame. "I have no need for your money, Dwarf."

Bilbo growled low in the back of his throat, then forced himself through the wall of Dwarves to stand before Balin and Thorin. Dori took a few steps closer to his mates.

Bilbo bowed to the man that _towered_ over him. He barely came up to his waist. "Bilbo, son of Bungo, Hobbit of the Shire. Please to meet you, Master… err. We have had a very trying few days, battling Orcs and Goblins and Wargs alike, some of our Company are injured, and we would be grateful for any aid you can offer us. Perhaps, instead of gold, we could offer to tend your hives or your fields. Cut some wood." He bowed again. Dori watched as the yellow deepened and Bilbo kept his fingers curled loosely to hide his growing claws.

"Oh, look at you! A bunny!" said the man, his demeanor melting from glacially hard to a grandfather eager to tease a young child. Bilbo looked a little sick, reaching out perhaps to say something, but the big man kept talking. "Orcs and Goblins, you say? I hate them, more than I hate Dwarves. Come in, little bunny. You are welcome. And tell me your story of how you came away from Orcs and Goblins and still have your little hide. And call me Beorn. I protect this land."

Bilbo's shoulders slumped, the warning colors fading away. He offered Beorn a sharp nod and reserved smile. "Thank you." Behind him, all the Dwarves bowed, Dori included, and they followed Beorn into his roughhewn log longhouse large enough to cast a shadow halfway to the forest's edge as the sun hovered on the edge of the mountain range.

The longhouse consisted of one great room taking up most of the space, and inside wandered two sheep and a dog. A huge central fireplace, made of river stone Beorn must have lugged the three days from the river, filled the center portion of the house, and banked coals kept the building warm and welcoming. The far end housed a kitchen with many counters and shelves for storage. There were bales of straw and hay, as well as barrels piled upon themselves. A set of stairs led to a loft over the kitchen, providing more storage for foodstuffs. The opposite end of the kitchen contained a set of three rooms. One obviously Beorn's, but two were set up for guests, big people, like Men and Elves. Did the man entertain often? Perhaps he was just a safe haven many knew about. The guest room beds could easily sleep two Dwarves each. 

"You can use these rooms." Beorn crossed his arms again—it appeared to be a favorite stance of his—and counted them. His eyes lingered on Dori, who lifted his chin in automatic defiance. "Others can sleep here with my friends." He showed them the outhouse and the water pump and they were all thrilled to see a huge washing basin filled with water that had warmed throughout the day. "Please, wash and rest and I will have my animals prepare our dinner." Dori thought that perhaps the oddest thing he'd heard in an age. Then the man set out ointments and herbs, along with a pile of cloth for bandages, which Oin descended upon with relief. "Little bunny," Beorn said, "I'll show you the hives and you can tell me your story."

Bilbo pressed his lips together and nodded. "As you wish, Beorn." He pattered behind the huge man, who seemed to stroll leisurely for his frame, but Bilbo still had to double his steps to keep up. 

"Thorin, take this room," Balin insisted. "Oin, now that we've proper facilities, can you look to our king's injuries?" Oin got busy with stripping the fabric and boiling water. Thorin, oddly quiet through this entire exchange, let himself be led into one room. The rest of the Company looked at each other, wondering who would take the next. Nobody, Dori noticed, really looked at him.

"I'll stay with Thorin and Bilbo," he said, and followed Thorin into the room. 

Behind him he heard Nori say, "Glad he just fessed up to that."

~~~

Thorin crossed the room to the far bed and carefully lowered himself to the mattress. Thick and comfortable, he wanted nothing more than to lie down and lose himself to slumber. His body ached and burned with injury. But he also noticed another ache that had been building since that morning. One he knew well. Though Thorin wanted to rail against the bad timing, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement, either.

He heard Dori claim the same room with Thorin and Bilbo, and Thorin chuckled to himself, a dry huff of laughter. How easy it was for the Company to accept their triad relationship when nothing had ever been distinctly said about it. All Thorin knew was that these next few days were certainly going to be interesting.

Dori entered and stalled in the doorway, his eyebrows knit together at something he saw on Thorin's face. Thorin pulled his expression into neutral, but felt he didn't care too much if Dori saw into his mind.

"Thorin, what is it?" 

Dori sat next to him on the bed and Thorin fought the urge to lean against the other Omega, just for a moment, and feel his strength. Not that Thorin wasn't strong himself, but he was just so very tired. He inhaled, let the air fill his body. He inhaled again and tried to explain. "I am in a rather uncomfortable situation here…."

Dori stiffened. "I shall move rooms if it bothers you that—"

Thorin shook his head. Blast but he should watch his words. "No, Dori. That is not what I meant. You are, of course, welcome in my rooms. We share… a bond I had never expected possible." He inhaled again. Dori was more than a comrade in arms to reclaim their home. He wasn't Thorin's Alpha, by no means, but still, there was something…. "I seem to…" Then Thorin felt his cheeks heat. Oh come now, he wasn't a young Omega new to his body's awakening. "I am going into heat. Though I too am on herbs. I am afraid I am going into heat." And though he fought against it, a little smile tugged at his lips. He would enter his heat with Bilbo. He already felt the stirrings of want deep in his belly toying with the ache that foretold a coming heat.

Dori whiffed the air. "Thorin, are you certain?"

Thorin nodded. "I know my own body. I can feel the beginning ache already." Deep inside. The hollowness that wanted to be filled. He looked over at his co-Omega, wondering how Dori felt about this change in their circumstances. Dori had already shared a heat with Bilbo, they had shared passion and love. 

Dori wiggled his eyebrows at him, an oddly lascivious gesture coming from the very proper Dwarf. "You're going to love it."

Thorin blushed even deeper, looked away. He knew he would. "I shall gather some things you'll need," Dori continued. "Towels, water to wash with and to drink. Maybe a stash of food, though I can certainly offer you some throughout your heat. Does Bilbo know?"

Thorin shook his head. "Nobody but you. I shall tell Balin, so he can keep the lads in line while I'm… indisposed"

Oin knocked and poked his head into the room. "Go wash yourself in the tub, then come to the fire so I can see your wounds."

Thorin sighed and made to stand, the effort he had to muster a sad truth. Dori wrapped his arm around Thorin's waist and helped him stand with little effort. Together they went onto the rear porch where the huge wooden tub waited. Thorin disrobed, Dori taking and folding each of his clothes to set on an over-sized chair. Then with Dori's help, he unwound his bandages before he eased himself into the sun-warmed water. A sheep came and took his clothing. Thorin watched it dumbfoundedly, then closed his eyes and let the oddness of this place go. Though it wasn't a hot spring, the warm tub felt luxurious. He groaned in pleasure and slipped low into the water so only his head above his nose was unsubmerged. 

"The tub is huge, Dori. Why don't you join me?"

Dori nodded and stripped himself with such meticulousness that Thorin couldn't help but chuckle. Dori scolded him with a look, but then soon joined Thorin in the tub. They shared a bar of soap they found resting on the edge of the tub, scented with honey. A crusted over scab on his arm marked a wound Dori'd recently received. Thorin ran his finger over it, happy the infection had cleared. 

"Do you remember the soaps from Sunda's shop? The herbal soaps?" Dori hmmed as if he could smell them at that exact moment. "She made a powder too that you could agitate in your bath water and it would be all sudsy. Truly a luxury I miss."

"My mother had some of the powdered soaps in Erebor. She'd give me and Frerin bubble baths together." 

Dori scrubbed Thorin's back, and Thorin began to return the favor when a little noise pulled his attention to the side of the house. Bilbo stood there, his clothing filthy, his hair a mess, a dirt smudge across his chin. 

His mouth was open, just a bit, and desire flashed in his eyes.

Pleasure coiled low in his Thorin's groin and he had to swallow down his own little noise. "You are filthy, Mister Baggins. Come bathe with us." 

Dori spun towards Bilbo and leaned his crossed arms over the edge of the tub. "Yes, you'll want to be clean before dinner." 

Bilbo's throat bobbed, then he nodded, scrambling from his clothing like the fabric was teaming with ants. He tossed them in a pile, atypical for his Hobbityness, and crawled up into the tub. Another animal came and collected the clothing. Thorin absentmindedly wondered what they would wear once their bath was over. 

Thorin couldn't help but examine the Hobbit's body. This small thing would bring him such pleasure? Not to say the Hobbit was erect at the moment, but even his small frame, the size of his hands caused Thorin to wonder. He could easily imagine himself looming over the Hobbit in their bed, tasting him, claiming him in ways he enjoyed when not in heat, but heat was another matter. Thorin ached to be filled, to be taken and claimed. Mated. The coil of arousal shifted like a snake. His cock began to fill.

"Turn around," Thorin said, "I shall get your back, you get Dori's." And the three washed each other tenderly. The ache continued to build and Thorin steadfastly did not lean forward and suck a line down Bilbo's neck, laying claim to him in his own way. He wanted to taste him. To press Bilbo's body against his.

Bilbo shivered, as if reading Thorin's mind, then stiffened. He stuck his nose in the air and whiffed only to spin around in the next instant. His eyes shifted from Thorin to Dori back to Thorin. "You're in heat."

Thorin twisted his unexpected growl of pleasure into a cough. His Alpha could tell though he wasn't in full heat, was recently scrubbed with soap, and nearly submerged in water. "I am getting there. Will probably hit tonight or tomorrow early."

Bilbo opened his mouth, a silent 'oh'.

"I'll make sure the room has all the things you'll need," Dori said, saving them all from an awkwardness they hadn't yet had to address. "I'll bring you food so you can keep up your strength. Bilbo, I assume you won't mind me bringing you things while you're in rut?"

Bilbo shook his head. "I don't think so; I mean… we're mated already. So, of anyone, you would be welcome." Then his cheeks pinked and Thorin had a hint at what was going through the Alpha's mind, because Thorin's mind went there as well. Would Dori and Thorin's heats ever coincide?

Once clean, they climbed out of the tub, wrapping themselves in towels. Oin snatched up Thorin and dragged him into the longhouse, setting him down by the fireside to tend his wounds. The towel pooled around Thorin's groin, hiding his still half-turgid sign of arousal. Dori readied the room. Bilbo disappeared a moment, then returned with little hard cakes drizzled in honey and gave one to Thorin, nuzzling his neck a bit until Oin shooed him away. Thorin caught more than a few curious glances from the other Dwarves. Nori and Bofur took the next bath, the water not quite clean, but better than their current road-worn state. He could hear laughter and splashing in no time from the giant tub outside.

Thorin watched all of this happen in a hazy sense of not being fully there. The warmth from the fire and his building heat made him feel languid and drowsy. Oin slathered his wounds with healing salve and wrapped them up with fine linen cloth. Dori carried a basin of water to the room and more towels and sheets. Thorin tried not to watch, embarrassed by the implications. Around them dogs carried things and tended to chores, a sheep stirred a pot with a spoon gripped in its mouth. 

Ori called out, "Dinner is ready! Look at all this food!"

Bilbo tutted, tightening his towel that dragged on the floor as he walked. "I must apologize for my terrible state," Bilbo said, bowing to the table.

Beorn laughed. "It is all fine, little bunny. My animals have cleaned your clothing and it is drying now. Probably fresh by the morning. Just leave the rest on the back porch. The ponies have already refilled the tub, though it won't gather any warmth from the sun today."

Thin-cakes and honey, an oat mash and roasted vegetables covered the table. It took Thorin, and the other Dwarves, little time to recognize there was no meat. Bilbo whispered to him, "Beorn doesn't eat meat and insists we not hunt on his lands. All the animals are his friends." Thorin stared into the warm eyes of a sheep that watched him from across the table and understood.

"This is truly a grand meal, Master Beorn," Thorin announced. "We thank you."

Sharing looks all around, the rest of the Company finally followed Thorin's not so subtle hint. "Yes, thank you, Master Beorn," Kili said stuffing a small cake into his mouth. "These are delicious," he said around the food, earning him a scolding from Bilbo.

The honey cakes were delicious and Thorin found more and more on his plate, arriving from either side of him: Dori to his left, Bilbo to his right. Dori whispered, "You'll need energy."

Beorn scooped up big piles of honeyed beans for Dori and Thorin. "Gives you proper strength." The two Omegas shared a look, but said nothing as they ate the delicious beans.

Stuffed and edgy, Thorin excused himself and went to the outhouse. Just as he thought, his slick was beginning. Cleaning himself up as best as he could, uncomfortably aware of how every Alpha would whiff him easily in his single towel and oozing slick, he sought out Balin.

He pulled his advisor near the doorway, away from the giant hearth where the majority of his Dwarves had gathered. Bilbo watched him from where he was talking with Beorn, eyes narrowed as Thorin conferenced with another Alpha. Thorin felt a contented buzz roll around within him at his watchful Alpha. "I'm going into heat." Balin nodded. Of course he already knew, even if he wasn't visible whiffing the air. "We'll be here a few days. Watch my nephews, please."

"Of course," Balin began, and then Bilbo was there, putting himself between Thorin and Balin. He smiled up at Balin, pleasant as could be. "I shall take my leave then," Balin said with a knowing smile. "Don't wear yourself out." He winked and retreated to the fire.

Bilbo turned on Thorin, nostrils flaring like a freshly raced horse, body leaning towards Thorin's. "I will start embarrassing myself soon if we don't retire," he rushed out in a strained whisper.

Thorin raised his eyebrows. "I must speak with our host first, to assure our long term welcome."

Bilbo bristled, a flash of teeth evident until he shivered and then shook his head. "I'll go with you."

"…and of course honey is quite nourishing." Beorn was regaling Dori and Ori when Bilbo and Thorin arrived. Beorn turned to Thorin, eyebrows rising as he took in the two. "You shall be here for a few days, then?" he asked, tasting the air. "Little bunny," he said with fondness, "you are quite the stallion. Two Omegas and one already breeding."

"Um, excuse me?" Bilbo asked, tone edged with steel. Thorin went stiff. Next to him, Dori took a step back.

Beorn nodded to Dori. "You are with baby. Didn't you know?"

Dori's hands dropped to his belly, shaking his head. "No, I didn't. It's not been very long since I mated."

"Oh, well, it's very new. But if you eat honey and beans, you will have all the energy to keep your baby growing without wearing yourself down."

"Dori's pregnant?" Thorin asked, stunned. 

Bilbo launched himself at Dori and buried his nose against Dori's belly. He shook his head, "I still can't tell." Delight and color, a deep blue, spread over Bilbo's face. "A baby?" Then he shuttered his face as he gazed up at Dori. "Is that okay?"

Dori bit his lower lip, eyes only for Bilbo, and nodded. 

"Oh good," Bilbo gushed. "I – I never imagined. I mean…I've always been alone and now I've both of you, and a baby and I have this family I never even expected to have."

He cradled Dori's flat belly with his hands. "Hello little Dwobbit," he cooed. 

"Dwobbit?" Dori chuckled. He smiled over at Thorin, then his smile turned into a frown of concern. Bilbo must have sensed some change, because he too faced Thorin, his joy slower to dissolve.

"I'm very happy for you, Dori. Bilbo." Thorin bowed, but when he straightened he shook his head. "I had hoped the herbs would still work as a contraceptive, even if they didn't stall the heat. I can't—" he shook his head again, more fervently "—get pregnant. Not on our quest. Not while Erebor is still lost to us. I – I can't—"

Just then that hollow ache in his belly, the empty place that wanted to be filled, burned. Thorin clenched his jaw and strode to his room, ignoring the room full of Dwarves and animals, closing the door behind him as his heat hit.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Thorin, let me in." Bilbo pounded on the door. He'd started with pleading, then had roared in anger, and that faded into nails scraping at wood. A desperate sound, if there ever was one. From his encampment on the bed, Thorin watched as the Hobbit's fingers clawed under the door, the gap wide enough to allow most of his smaller hand. Then as the night progressed, Bilbo's words had become plaintive; everything from his lips a sad, desperate entreaty.

Thorin wanted him. His Alpha was there, right on the other side of that door. His very fertile Alpha, it seemed. 

Thorin rolled away from the door, pulling the pillow over his head. His body throbbed. He'd already rubbed himself to release twice, but it did nothing for the emptiness. The place only his Alpha could touch and sooth. 

During lucid moments, he thought of Dori, and how it wasn't fair the breeding Dwarf was trapped out in the hall, without a bed to ease his back. Not that he was far enough along to feel such aches. Still Thorin's mind spun and spun and spun, always coming back to Dori's pregnancy.

In the past, Thorin went through most of his heats alone, only needing the aid of an Alpha when the breeding urge was strong and he couldn't trick his body with just self-application. He'd needed an Alpha's knot, though the herbs had never failed. Now, it seemed his body once again could not be tricked. Instinctively, he knew his Alpha was near, near enough to sooth the ache his reproductive organs were pounding him with right now.

"Thorin." His name, drawn out thin and reedy. With more effort than the movement normally would require, Thorin hoisted himself off the bed and he lumbered across the cold floor to squat near the door, whiffing his Alpha's scent through the seams between door and floor. He closed his eyes, dizzy.

"Come on, Bilbo. Let's go for a walk, get some air." That was Dori, and this was the third time he'd tried to pull Bilbo away. Thorin wondered how late it was, certainly past midnight. Near dawn?

"I can't leave him, Dori. I can't leave him." Then Bilbo dropped his voice. "He needs me. I need him."

"I know, but right now is not a good time for Thorin. Give him a little room."

Thorin pressed the palm of his hand to the door, the wood cool under his touch. 

Bilbo hissed. "I can't leave. Another Alpha will take him. A bigger Alpha, a stronger one. Thorin might find Balin better than me. Or Bifur, he's strong. What if… " Bilbo groaned in utter despair, "he just doesn't want me."

"That's not true," Thorin said, dragging his hand down along the grains of the wood. "I do want you, Bilbo. My Alpha. I – love you. I want to mate with you, and bond with you… we'll make it work… someday, but now… I can't be with child. I have a home to claim, a people to resettle. We're going to face a dragon, for Mahal's sake. I can't… I can't do this."

The words came easier as he spoke to the door instead of having to say such things to Bilbo's face and watch the emotions remake Bilbo's typically amused or put upon expression. That one was a veil, Thorin knew, to hid Bilbo's worry. The Hobbit's features held few secrets anymore and Thorin couldn't see him struck asunder by Thorin's own rejection. Plus, in the first flush of his heat, he would tell Bilbo everything, anything. He did love him. He wanted him. But he wasn't so far gone that he would give into pure physical needs. "Promise me, Dori. Promise me you won't let me forget this. When I’m lost in the heat, remind me of what I say now."

A pause held dominion on the other side of the door, then a quite sob of denial from Bilbo as Dori said, "I will, Thorin." 

Thorin fought instinct and fought desire and struggled back to his bed, where he curled up in a ball, trying to ignore the arousal and ache, the want and sorrow that wound within him.

~~~

Bilbo could smell Thorin through the door. Rich cinnamon, oak, the musky flavor of his slick as his heat raged through his body. He ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, tasting him. Bilbo caught his own scent on the air too, impossible not to since he'd flooded the hall between the rooms with it.

He felt like his mind had been split. The half that _pined_. The half that understood Thorin's request. He logically understood Thorin wasn't spurning him as a mate. Knew that he wouldn't turn to Balin, Bifur or one of the mated Alphas. Heaven forbid his own nephew. He _knew_ this. But his Alpha instincts wouldn't accept logic as anything but words and hollow ones at that. Instead, a beast clawed within him, tearing him apart internally. Ripping apart his pride. His defenses. Tearing down his self-worth.

Dori stayed with him, though. His mate. He was a challenge not to turn his rut onto his other Omega… his breeding Omega. To mount him in some semblance of establishing his right to mate. He groaned in self-scorn. 

And the worst thing, he could hear Thorin inside. Hear him whining for Bilbo, hear him moaning in his heat. Could smell him when he brought himself relief. Bilbo should be doing that. Making him moan, but moan in lust and pleasure, not unfilled want. He should be tasting his slick and semen. Knotting him, filling him with his seed, breeding him.

But that was the problem. Thorin didn't want to be bred by Bilbo. 

There were claw marks on the door, scratches gouged out. Splinters pierced the flesh under his nails. His damaged shoulder ached with use. A bowl of food waited for him, but he wasn't hungry. 

Dori brushed his fingers through Bilbo's stringy hair. "Bilbo, let's go clean you up. I'll get you in the tub, then get Thorin his food. Will that be okay? He's hungry, Bilbo, but I can't get him food until you leave the door."

Dori gave Bilbo a smile full of pity. He petted Bilbo again and Bilbo leaned into the touch, pressed into it. Thorin needed food. He was being a selfish prick by staying by the door. Right. Get up, Baggins! Get up and _leave_ for Yavanna's sake. 

Bilbo stumbled to his feet, catching the wall to keep upright. His towel fell, but Dori gathered it up and wrapped him snuggly up with it. Bilbo was exhausted and frustrated. He shifted his gaze to the main hall, annoyed at the concerned looks staring him down. He counted up the Alphas… none were there. He whiffed the air and couldn't smell them either.

"Where are they?" Bilbo's voice cracked. He licked his dry lips.

"Chopping wood," Dori said taking his arm. "Beorn is out with them."

Bilbo let Dori lead him to the bath and settle him in the night-cool water. He set down Bilbo's now dry clothes on one of the benches near the tub. "I'm going to check on Thorin now, so, stay here." 

In the low night of a lantern, Dori looked so worried. Away from Thorin's scent Bilbo could see it better. The dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines between his brows. The frown. Bilbo swallowed, then nodded. "I'll stay outside."

Dori kissed him, a comforting gesture but still Bilbo pushed it into something more—he couldn’t help it—diving his tongue into his mate's mouth, devouring his gasp. Dori gripped Bilbo's good shoulder, holding him in place as he returned the kiss, a moan slipping out as Bilbo grasped for Dori's shirt.

Dori finally pulled away, his cheeks pink but face impassive. "Bilbo, I'm not sure how I feel about you taking your current passions for Thorin out on me. We'll talk later." Dori dropping a quick kiss onto Bilbo's lips and slipped back into the longhouse.

~~~ 

Dori could still taste Bilbo's kiss on his lips when he brought Thorin a plate of food, including some broth incase Thorin's stomach wasn't steady under his heat. When he opened the door, a single candle lit the room, casting it into murky shadows. The smell of slick assailed him and the sight of Thorin, naked, sprawled on the bed in exhaustion only added to the fire in his own belly.

Oh Mahal, Dori was still a male in his prime! What a state they were going to end up in.

"Thorin. Thorin. Wake up." Dori gently touched Thorin's shoulder and the other Dwarf hissed and pulled away. With great effort Thorin opened his eyes, his pupils huge and fevered.

"Dori." His name was barely a sigh.

"You need to eat." Dori set the tray down on a table and moved to the bed to try to prop Thorin up. His skin was scorching hot. Dori grabbed a towel and dipped it in the water, wiping the sweat off Thorin's brow. "Can you eat for me?"

Thorin breathed through his mouth, the breath causing his chest to rise and fall too fast for simple breathing. "Yes," he managed and allowed Dori to feed him broth and bread. Dori tried to cover Thorin with a sheet, but he pushed the fabric away from his skin, complaining of the feel on his skin. Too hot. Too scratchy. Too heavy. So Dori was forced to look at Thorin's body, hard and scarred, his erect penis jutting up from his thatch of hair, red and needy.

When Dori's gaze returned to Thorin's face, he realized Thorin had caught him ogling his body. Dori went red and offered Thorin a slice of peach, which he took from Dori's fingers, licking the juice off with his tongue.

"Oh my." Dori took in a calming breath. "Thorin, I don't think I can be a surrogate for your Alpha."

"Dori, I'm on fire." Thorin arched his back, his deep voice curling up and around Dori, cradling him, coaxing him. 

Dori steadied himself, avoiding Thorin's touch but still attempting to feed him. There had to be a way out of this. "Let's up your dosage of herbs, shall we?"

~~~

Bilbo scrubbed himself clean, head already feeling less cloudy due to having removed himself from his Omega's heat-scent. He was being a completely selfish bastard. He had to stay away from the house, let Thorin's body have a chance to rest.

As he climbed out of the tub, Oin came through the back door to the washing area. Bilbo nearly jumped from his skin and grabbed a towel to wrap around himself and his constantly half-erect cock.

"I've upped Thorin's suppressants, so hopefully it will quiet his heat. And I have some for you, too."

"I was already taking those."

Oin squinted at him as if trying to decipher Bilbo's words, then nodded. "Well, take more. With the combined overdose I'm prescribing, hopefully we can continue on without too much set back." He held out a leather bag that Bilbo took. 

Bilbo opened the drawstring and sniffed. It smelled the same. Unappetizing sulfur. "How much do I take?"

"We'll start with four times—"

"Four!"

"Aye. And we'll see—" Oin pointed at Bilbo's crotch like it was a bad dog, "—see how that affects your current breeding state. Should see some results by tomorrow evening."

Bilbo nodded. He would do anything to alieve Thorin's stress.

~~~

Tucked in a hay pile of Beorn's huge barn, surrounded by contented cows and sheep, Bilbo fussed with his nest. He laid out a borrowed blanket on the heaps of fresh hay that smelled like the Shire in early autumn. A sheep baaed, then turned in a circle and lay in a stall at the side of the barn. Bilbo already felt less overcome by his rut, though the underlying arousal was still there. He contemplated adding two more scoops of the sulfuric herb mixture to his tincture and see if that killed it all together.

A creak scattered his reflections as the barn door swung open. Dori strolled in holding a plate covered with a white cloth napkin. Food. "You're looking better," Dori said. Bilbo smiled at him, but his smile didn't last long. Dori looked wrung thin.

"How are you?" Bilbo asked, taking the plate with his good hand and setting it on a nearby tack box. "Have you slept at all?" His tone was edged and concerned, and Dori lifted one eyebrow, then leaned on Bilbo, who quickly wrapped him up.

"I'm tired. Thorin… well, I can be nothing but honest with you, Bilbo…" 

Bilbo immediately tensed. Was Thorin in terrible pain? Still needing him, or fulfillment in any kind? Bilbo searched Dori's eyes. "Dori, if there is anything you can do for him, _anything_ , please. Do it. If you can and are willing."

Understanding shadowed Dori's expression. "That is what I wanted to talk to you about. I wonder if another mating might not fulfill his heat, now that he's on such a high dosage of suppressants. I wonder if an Omega would be so fertile compared to an Alpha."

Bilbo's heart lurched, then settled down. Then, after a moment of his mind spinning up scenarios, his cock stirred. The idea of Dori and Thorin together, pleasing each other, did not send him into feral Alpha jealousy, instead… he rather liked the idea. He purred and brushed his cheek against Dori's shoulder, leaving behind his scent. "I wish I could watch." Then he stiffened, shocked he'd revealed his thoughts so carelessly.

He looked up at Dori, and saw a teasing smile.

"Oh, you'd like to watch me licking Thorin's slick from him, like you did to me."

"Oh, Yavanna, you wicked, wicked Dwarf, Dori." Bilbo pressed his body against Dori's hoping for more contact, but not pushing it. Dori was breeding, and not in heat, though he knew his Omega appeared to have a healthy sexual appetite. And that was only confirmed when Dori pressed against Bilbo and he could feel the not-so-subtle signs of Dori's own readiness. 

Bilbo pulled away, shaking his burgeoning rut from his head. "You should save that for Thorin."

Dori grabbed Bilbo and pulled him tight to his body. "I think I probably have enough for both of you." Then he chuckled, that deep noise on the edge of prim but sliding into temptation that had Bilbo's blood a notch below boil. "I guess we're both stirred by Thorin's head, and here I scolded you earlier."

A needy whine slipped through Bilbo's lips. There was nothing he could say, and no way he could argue against Dori's need. No chance he wanted to. And by Dori's passionate kiss, Bilbo didn't think there was any need to.

Dori pressed against Bilbo's chest and pushed him to the blanket. Bilbo gasped in surprise as Dori began tearing the clothing from him. First his shirt, then Dori took to Bilbo's trousers, yanking open the ties and releasing his more than ready erection. The area around the knot was red and puffy, and the pungent scent coming from it hit them both. Dori hmmed in delight before he sealed his lips around Bilbo's cock.

"Oh… oh! Dori…" While mating, oral pleasures for the Alpha are rarely performed, because it was all about making sure the seed reached the Omega's egg. This wasn't Bilbo's first oral pleasure, but oh, by all the stars in the sky, it was by far the most pleasurable. Bilbo didn't want to think of how Dori had grown so skilled, and cradled his hurt arm to his chest, trying to relax and not flail his arms, and thanked those previous lovers for the finesse his Omega had now.

Bilbo could feel the glide of Dori's tongue along the underside of his erection, then the teasing, yet satisfying, suck at the head. His swallowed Bilbo down, then slowly pulled him out of his hot mouth. A deep, growling groan rose from Bilbo's chest, keening and desperate and entirely approving. Dori's hands roamed over Bilbo's balls, kneading tenderly and pulling, then he pressed firmly against Bilbo's perineum. Bilbo's hips twitched, pressing himself deeper into Dori's mouth. 

"Yes," he hissed out, pumping his hips again, and Dori's finger pressed back to his entrance and Bilbo almost came, shocking the Alpha. "My knot. Hold it. Tight," he begged. 

Dori did, one hand gripping the area of his knot with the strength the Dwarf was famous for, the other, gently toying against his rim. Bilbo's knot was swelling, feeding off the pressure from Dori's grip. Dori no longer dove and sucked against Bilbo's fevered rutting. Into Dori's relaxed throat, Bilbo pummeled, the pressure on his knot and at his rear driving him mindlessly towards release. His free hand flew to Dori's head and his fingers dug into that silver hair, holding him, as he humped his mouth. "Harder," he ground out between a jaw set in a vice grip. The pressure on his knot was nearly painful now, but it's what Bilbo needed. The ball of pleasure exploded within him and poured out into Dori's mouth. Dori coughed, and spunk splattered across his chin as he gasped for breath, but he didn't release his hold. Another pulse, and another. Bilbo curled around Dori, head practically held in his lap, as he continued to release his endless ejaculate. His body trembled. And still, Dori didn't free his full and spongy knot, pulsing pleasures through Bilbo's body.

He panted with each unloading, twitching each time Dori lapped at his head. "It's interesting to see how it just keeps going." Dori licked him again. "If I released your knot, would it stop?"

Bilbo could barely move, but he managed to shake his head. "Please, don't." It was a plea made of the barest breath.

"I won't, my Alpha. Not until you tell me to."

Though it wasn't a full half-hour before Bilbo relaxed, it was still nearly half that. Dori's hand had to have been cramping when Bilbo finally nodded. "You can let me go now." His body still pulsed out semen when Dori relaxed his grip on Bilbo's knot and then slowly released him. When the pressure was gone, Bilbo sighed in disappointment. The pleasure of that grip on his knot, the pride of filling an Omega with seed, all diminished as his body registered the lack of being locked with a body and gradually stopped ejaculating.

With a little bit of horror, Bilbo noticed Dori was covered in Bilbo's spunk. "Oh, my. That's…." He grabbed his towel and began wiping off Dori's face. "Sorry."

Dori smiled, blinked his eyes slowly, then licked his lips. "No worries. My turn?"

Bilbo sat back on his knees, grinning. "Oh yes, any requests?" Bilbo would give him anything.

"I know what Thorin will need from me later." Dori almost looked embarrassed, so Bilbo brushed his fingers along Dori's clean cheek to reassure him. "And I know you've quite the recovery time while rutting. So, I'd like you to enter me."

Bilbo's fingers stilled. "But… the baby."

Dori rolled his eyes. "Oh, poo. The baby will be fine. You're not so large now—"

"Hey!"

"—that you'll injure me or the child. I," he looked away a moment, then back up at Bilbo, "I asked Oin, and explained… " he waved his hand over Bilbo's already filling cock, "about your Hobbit physiology and he said if there is any discomfort to stop, but we should be able to have normal intercourse for many more months."

After that, it took little time for Bilbo to be ready to mount his Omega. He was three fingers deep in Dori, stretching him for Bilbo's intrusion, and coaxing out delicious and wonton noises from his prim Dwarf. Bilbo ran kisses along Dori's chest, leaving trails of saliva as he kissed lower and lower, until he too took Dori into mouth. 

Dori was a respectable size, and Bilbo, only Hobbit-sized, couldn't take him all in as Dori had done for Bilbo. Still, he worked the head and sides with an eagerness that not only stirred up his own arousal, but Dori's. Before long Bilbo kneeled between Dori's thighs, one of the Dwarf's legs thrown over Bilbo's good shoulder. "Are you ready?"

Dori's eyes flashed. "Please! Stop teasing me."

Bilbo chuckled and with more care than Dori probably wanted, Bilbo entered his Omega.

So tight. Bilbo gritted his teeth as he inched into Dori's body. In heat or not, Dori fit him perfectly. He kissed along Dori's inner thighs, then straightened up to pump his hips, sliding in and out of Dori's tight entrance. Dori hissed, tilting his hips and in no time the two found the perfect angle and Dori was panting out pleasureful moans has Bilbo fisted his cock and pounded his hole.

It was delicious and intoxicating. Bilbo could do this all day, would love to do this all day. Though his rut was only a slight boil due to the drugs, it still roved through his veins like a night prowler, pushing him to thrust and claim and love his partner.

"Good?" he asked through his sharp breathes.

Dori keened, arched his back and coated Bilbo's hand with his release. Bilbo slathered his own erection with Dori's seed, careful to not press beyond his knot, which was fully formed and aching for that contact. He didn't think he could come without it, so he grabbed himself, trying to squeeze as Dori had done.

Bilbo growled, it wasn't working. His orgasm balanced on the edge, ready to pounce, but elusive without the pressure. He worried about making Dori raw. It just wasn't happening. Frustrated, he growled and then withdrew.

"What—What's wrong?" Dori asked, panting.

"I'm trying not to knot you." Bilbo didn't know if would be totally uncouth if he could ask Dori to hold his knot in a vice grip while he wanked himself off.

"Why? Just do it," Dori said.

"I—it might be very uncomfortable for you. You're not in heat and my knot…"

Dori sat up, then pressed his palm against Bilbo's chest, pushing him down into the hay. Bilbo was expecting Dori to work him over with his hand, but instead he straddled Bilbo, grabbed his fiery erection and settled down on it.

Bilbo howled!

"Don’t thrust. Let me do it," Dori demanded and lifted himself up and came down again. Bilbo writhed underneath him, struggling not to take Dori's hips and drive himself up into that tight body. The angle was amazing and the idea of Dori _on him, taking_ Bilbo like this, blasted through his mind.

He could feel the pressure on his knot every time Dori settled down. "I can feel you. You're knot. It's burning. I can feel it. Think you can slip in yet?" Dori asked, riding him in a steady rhythm. 

Bilbo couldn't string together two words let alone a sentence. But he shook his head, he needed a little bit more, just a little bit… Dori shifted his hips, pushing forward a little, then back and Bilbo gasped and couldn't stop himself from grabbing onto Dori's knees, digging into his mates thighs and pushing up. Dori landed on him and in slipped his knot.

"Oh, Dori!" Bilbo's body tensed. For the second time that night an organism took away his senses. He could feel the pulse of his cock inside Dori's tight channel, the press of his knot around his inner walls. Bilbo growled out like an animal, unembarrassed by his reaction because this was Dori, his mate. The one he would bond with and be with forever. 

Dori shifted up, and Bilbo yelped. "No! Not yet." 

Dori leaned forward and settled down atop him, kissing Bilbo along his face and hair, as Bilbo's ejaculation continued. 

"We'll be here for a while." Bilbo panted.

"It's fine, love. Boy," Dori chuckled, "you are filling me up, aren't you?"

Bilbo laughed and kissed his Omega. Delighting in the feel of Dori around him, atop him, kissing him. "I love you," Bilbo said between kisses, his heart nearly floating to the sun.

"Oh Bilbo. I love you. I want to bond with you. I want you forever."

Bilbo inhaled once, twice. He was in rut. It might work.

Dori looked deeply into Bilbo's eyes. "I know you're unsure, with Thorin also being your mate and if the bonding will allow us all three to be joined. I can understand, but I still want you. Forever. I want to bond with you, but I will wait for a while longer."

Bilbo licked along Dori's neck, dragged his teeth along the spot he would bite when the two bonded eternally. Dori's blood in his mouth, Bilbo's saliva in Dori's system, binding them as mates forever. Bilbo wanted it. 

"It will work, Dori. It works for Elves, it will work for us. I know it will. We just have to all bond-bite together. Me in my rut, both of you in your heat." He hoped it would work. Really, it had to.

He knew about the Dwarves' Ones. The idea that Mahal, when creating a Dwarf from the stone, hit the Dwarf with so much power the individual was split into two. These were two halves of one soul, and the two individuals did everything to find each other.

With Hobbits, it was all with smell. Not so definitive as a One, many Hobbits had several compatible options. Like a flower drawing in multiple bees. 

But, what if Mahal struck so hard, the soul shattered into three, and one shard of the soul splintered off, landed in the soil and with Yavanna's help, grew into a flower. It was a silly idea, probably, but Bilbo knew his heart and he trusted in the Valar. If they were all made for each other, they could all bond together. Bilbo had to have faith.

And he loved Dori too much to keep him on the edge of anxiety, wondering if it would ever happen. Wondering if they would be mates only, never binding themselves to each other.

"We must all talk, first. But after… after we've talked." Bilbo dragged his teeth along the bonding bite location. In his arms, Dori shivered. "We have to decide together. I too would bond with you. Have no doubt about that. But I would bond with Thorin, too. Both of you, my bondeds. If you'll have me."

"I would." Dori pressed his forehead to Bilbo's. "But I don't want to wait forever. I want our child to be born to a bonded couple…"

Not like Dori's childhood, or his brothers'. Bilbo nodded, his hair scraping against Dori's. "Yes, we will do it soon."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Dori closed the door behind him, tray of food held in one hand, and leaned against the thick log wall. Light filtered in through the open shutters letting in a warm breeze that dispelled some of the heady reek of heat. Perhaps the herbs were working, too. Dori felt himself slouch just a little in relief. 

From the bed where the king sprawled out, Thorin shifted his bloodshot gaze to Dori, then he whiffed the air. "You smell like my Alpha." Thorin barred his teeth, his scent shifted to warning.

A vein of anxiety corrupted the contentment within Dori's chest. "We've … been together recently, Thorin. Bilbo's in rut—"

Thorin rolled his head and faced the opposite wall, the stiff resentment holding him together leaking out through a gust of breath. "Yes, yes, I understand."

Dori tilted his head, studying the king. Thorin pulled the thin blanket over his head and curled into a ball. 

"You must be hungry?" Dori said stiffly. 

"Just leave it there."

Dori pressed his lips together, tight. Thorin could be as trying as Nori at times. Still, he counted to five and tried to see things from Thorin's point of view. His very hormonal and emotional point of view.

"He would be here with you, instead of me, in an instant. He would take you in his arms and cover you in his scent, accepting your own." Dori set down the tray on an oversized table and perched on the edge of the bed. He began slicing a peach with one of Beorn's knives. Thorin didn't move. "He would please you in ways you can't imagine…" Dori chuckled, "And you can still have that… but next heat, Thorin. You just have to wait until your next heat. Or…" he reached out and took Thorin's shoulder, gently pulling the other Omega to face him. "You could come together before your heat and enjoy his flesh then."

Thorin let himself be turned over, his eyes red rimmed and dark circled with wrinkles set in the delicate skin around them. Dori held out a peach slice and trailed it along Thorin's lips. Thorin's eyes grew wide.

Dori felt his heart's beat ratchet up a step. "He also understands the state you are in, as do I." 

Thorin opened his mouth and nibbled on the fruit, his gaze suddenly heating up.

"I would delight in relieving some of your want, Thorin. Bilbo even suggested it. That you and I mate, release some of your energies that are fighting against the suppressants. But onlyl if you wish it." He held out the fruit, and Thorin took the rest from his fingers, licking away the juices, his tongue gliding along Dori's skin.

Though Dori had just mated, and was fairly sated by his Alpha, he still felt a stirring in his groin. 

"Oin said the chance of a pregnancy from another Omega while on so many herbs is very small, but there is always that chance." He held out another peach slice. Thorin ate it, never taking his eyes off Dori's own. "So, you need to decide if it's worth it to you." Dori leaned forward, his hand bracing him against the bed, and kissed Thorin on the lips, tasting the sweet fruit on this mouth. Thorin growled deep in the back of his throat as he grasped at Dori's neck and feverishly returned the kiss. Thorin's tongue demanded a dance of dominance, and Dori gave him the dance, but not the dominance. The growl turned into a moan when Dori sucked on Thorin's tongue. 

Dori ended the kiss, his breath shallow. "I'll be back in an hour or so, Thorin. Think on it." Dori stood, adjusted himself in a performance of his interest, and left the room, feeling Thorin's attention burn into him.

The Dwarves all looked up, the Omegas and Betas, questioning without words. "He's doing just fine," Dori said, because Thorin wouldn't want them to be concerned. 

Nori frowned, he probably knew the truth, but said nothing. Dori offered him a quick smile. Prevention of mating during a heat when a chosen Alpha was near was something all Omegas were warned about at the turning of their maturation. Never pleasant, always taxing.

Beorn lumbered up with a plate of cheese and eggs and more of his honeyed beans. "Protein, for the Dwobbit." The big Skin-changer had been feeding Dori constantly since they'd decided to stick out Thorin's heat at Beorn's home. Luckily, Bilbo didn't know, or perhaps he knew and didn't mind. 

Dori nodded, pride swelling within him, as the baby would soon. "Thank you, Beorn." He took the food and dug in.

~~~

Thorin thought on it. As he stroked his erection, dipping his fingers into his wet entrance, he truly thought about it. The herbal suppressants took away the screaming desire to be _filled_ and _claimed_ , but the heat was churning throughout his body, buzzing through his nerve endings, stoking the fires in his lower belly. It was the third day and his heat should end any moment now, but he remembered Dori and Bilbo had been locked away for over three days. Should he wait until after tomorrow to see if his heat went away? While on the high dose of herbs he felt clear headed enough to lead once more, but he knew the scent coming off his body still screamed _heat_. 

Fiddlesticks, as Bilbo would say. 

Thorin sighed. He wanted to mate, to fuck, to be taken. He wouldn't deny such feelings. Normally, Thorin didn't choose to be to be penetrated during sex, but while in heat he wanted nothing but. He was, as every animal, a slave to nature.

He wanted to be with Bilbo. To whiff him, cover him in his scent. But he wasn't going to give in to instinct. He would be fine. His heat would end after a few days, it normally always did.

Thorin finished himself off, hand racing over his cock with fingers pressed deep inside himself. It wasn't satisfying, but it did the job. He washed his body and hands and finished the peach, already feeling the curl of another wave building within him.

A knock at the door stalled his hands from pleasuring himself once more. He covered himself up and called out, "Enter."

Dori slipped in with regal dignity, dressed in clean yet worn clothing: fine clothing a tailor would be proud to wear. His hair had been brushed and re-braided. The bruise on his cheek had gone from purple to a healing brown. The days of rest worked wonders on the Dwarf. He looked stunning, but Dori had always been the most handsome of Dwarves. 

Dori set down a tray—always bringing him trays—with a glass of milk, some broth, honeyed beans and honey cakes. Thorin thanked him wordlessly and took up a cake. He groaned it was so good. "Delicious."

Dori laughed. "The entire Company has devoured a score each. Fili and Bofur maybe twice that. Bilbo has been helping Beorn keep the stocks up."

Thorin's attention focused on Dori. "How is Bilbo?"

Dori waved his hand through the air and settled down in the chair next to the bed. "Oh, he'll be fine. He's on his own herbs, which don't stall a rut, but mellow it out, like this overdose you're taking is doing for you. He's edgy, especially round the other Alphas, but he's struggling to be his polite self." Dori chuckled warmly at something he remembered; Thorin could see the delight in the other Dwarf's face. Dori loved Bilbo, it was so evident. Did his feelings compare? He wondered again if he should just leave these two to their own progress, not butt in.

Then he remembered how he felt when he'd thought he'd lost Bilbo to the Goblins.

"Beorn is still trying to convince us to stay. He and Balin have been arguing over it all afternoon. He says Mirkwood is no place to travel, that it's corrupted." Dori smoothed out the line of his trousers.

"Did he offer other suggestions?" Thorin trusted that Balin would handle the situation, get as much information on their upcoming travels as possible, but he still wanted to be informed.

"Apparently there is no other option, other than going around." Dori shook his head. "It would add weeks to the trip. Plus, take us close to the northern Orcs."

Thorin leaned back into his pillow, realizing it was nice to talk about something other than the state of his body. His mind latched onto the problem at hand. "We cannot afford weeks, so we must go through. Please, talk to Balin and make sure we have all the necessary things for the long trek. Do what you can for Beorn so he can equip us of all the things we lost to the Goblins. Find out as much as you can about the trail and the forest.

"Durin's Day isn't as far away as we think. It sneaks upon us." They had miles to walk still and they had to find that secret door before the holy day passed.

"We will make it, your majesty." Dori gripped Thorin's hand and squeezed. Thorin felt a jolt at the touch and stiffened when Dori asked, "Did you think about my offer?" 

With a weary sigh, Thorin nodded. "I have, and it's quite generous. But I think my heat should be ending soon anyways, and while I'm honored and quite tempted by your offer, I will decline."

Dori nodded as if he expected that all along. "I am no replacement for an Alpha."

Thorin barked out an unexpected laugh. "No, can't say you are, but you are a fine Dwarf." What else could he say? This entire situation made his skin crawl. It just wasn't done and yet here they were. Talking of living as a threesome instead of a pair, mating during a heat with another Omega.

"Dori, do you think it's possible?" he asked. Again, this mouth speaking when he'd not even considered the question.

"What possible?" Dori asked, his head tilted just slightly in question. Thorin had learned to read Dori's body language as he would interpret his co-Omega's words. Easily.

"Us."

"The three of us?"

Thorin didn't meet Dori's eyes. He nodded. 

Dori leaned back against the back of the chair with a deep sigh. "Thorin… I must be frank. Is that fine?" Thorin nodded, he would expect nothing less, and Dori continued. "Honestly, this goes against my sensibilities, but… I do find you attractive and I wouldn't mind to… ah… share pleasure with you. I have even thought about you and Bilbo together, and this… does not alarm me so much as, well, you see… I find it quite… " Thorin finally looked at Dori as he stuttered through his explanation. The Dwarf was staring up at the ceiling, his cheeks red through his fine silver beard. 

"Exciting?" Thorin asked.

Dori's gaze captured his. He nodded. "Yes," he said, breathlessly. "And then if I imagine all three of us together. Well…" His lifted his eyebrows and offered Thorin a somewhat shy smile. "I am not opposed." Then he grew serious. "But if I consider normal life and living arrangements, I just—" He shrugged. "Would we live together? Would we all marry? How would Durin's folk think of you, sharing your mate? Would they even accept a Hobbit as a consort? If we do all share pleasures… would we know whose children were whose?" Then he fluttered his hand through the air. "Well, Bilbo's children would be obvious. But would Bilbo want to return to Bag End? Would we split the year between Erabor and the Shire? There are so many things to think about and consider. Not to mention the bond."

Thorin's chest tightened. He could still catch the scent of Bilbo over Dori. They hadn't bonded, he knew this because that was not anything that could be overlooked or hidden, but the evident scent had that same flavor.

"Could we all bond, or would one be left out of that connection?" Thorin mused.

"Exactly. Bilbo is certain we can all bond. That the Valar would not have made us all compatible, he even called us each other's Ones, but I guess we would be Twos. I have never heard of a threesome bonding. Once a bond is made with one mate, it is made. But then, I've not heard of three trying and failing."

"Bilbo said he read about a threesome in a book, at Rivendell," Thorin said.

"Yes, he told me about it as well. It was Elves, though, and we are not the same. However, it convinced him it will work. He thinks it would need to be while we are all in mating desire."

Thorin nodded to himself. "Would you bond with Bilbo?"

"Of course," came Dori's immediate answer. "I expect to bond upon my next heat." Thorin inhaled silent but sharp at the news. "You? Now, be honest, Thorin. We're being honest here, not noble."

Thorin glanced down at his clasped hands, his heart heavy and fast in his chest. His nerves set his hands to a slight shake. "Yes. Though I have not mated with him, I still feel… like he is mine. My mate. That we should be together."

Dori's hand covered Thorin's and squeezed. "I understand."

Thorin supposed if anyone did, it would be Dori. 

~~~

Dori stayed with Bilbo, much to Bilbo's delight. He wrapped Dori's bigger form around him, snuggling in close, encasing himself in Dori's scent with a hint of Thorin. That morning they made love. Bilbo delighted in this turn of events. Then Bilbo busied himself with baking honey cakes, collecting honey for more honey cakes, and digging holes. He'd taken to walking the edges of the forest, going deeper and deeper, scouting the border north of Beorn's home. He had to stay as far away from Thorin as possible and hope his Omega's heat would end today, as Dori told him it should. Bilbo hoped his own rut, though currently muted by the drugs, would end with it.

However, Bilbo's forays into the forest were not joys spent in leisurely pursuits. The forest reminded him too much of the Old Forest, somehow alive and watchful and not kind to trespassers. The ground felt sick and the pestilence seeped into his feet. He didn't relish trekking through that forest for hours let alone days. He worried about how it would affect his child, and his mates, and his friends. The poison even twisted the air.

He wished there was another way.

After cooking two dozen honeycakes that afternoon for Thorin and Dori—he'd had to slap Dwalin away from stealing them—Bilbo left the kitchen to wear himself out physically. More holes. It looked like an army of gophers had attacked Beorn's back field.

Beorn had asked Bilbo do dig a new row for some corn and though sweaty work with an oversized tool, Bilbo worked hard with the spade. Though his shoulder still hurt, the exercise worked the muscle. The sun beat down on him, cascading sweat down his temples. If only he'd had his gardening hat. 

"Uncle Bilbo!" 

Bilbo stood, wiping the sweat from his brow off on his sleeve. The handkerchiefs Thorin had given him were still tucked away in his coat pocket, left behind in the barn. Sometimes he would hold them to his nose and breathe in Thorin. Kili and Fili were trotting up, armed with swords and huge grins. His elven sword was among the deadly weapons. Bilbo forced himself not to glare at the other Alpha. Kili was young and didn't realize the strain a rutting Alpha was under, especially trapped within these circumstances. Ho ho, but when Kili hit his first rut, Bilbo would be ready with some retaliation. A bit of mocking if nothing else. 

"Hello, lads. What can I do for you?"

"We thought, well, Dwalin thought, it might be a good time to teach you more sword work. Keep your mind off other things," Fili said with a knowing look. Like he needed to be subtle. Like he was even _being_ subtle.

"Keep my mind off of mating with your uncle?" Bilbo asked, a bit meanly, but really, he wanted to see the lads squirm. Rut made one edgy and vindictive if unfulfilled. He would use that as an excuse. 

"Eww! Bilbo, I can't… I don't want such images in my brain," Kili whined, slapping his hands to his eyes.

Bilbo laughed and suddenly felt better. "Well, he is my mate, even if we haven't mated. Just wait, Kili. One day, you'll know exactly how I feel."

Kili shook his head. "I hope not. I wish I was a Beta and didn't have all these hormonal issues."

Fili rolled his eyes. "But you at least can find a perfect mate easier through scent. One whiff, and you know. It's so easy."

"Hey! You can at least make a logical decision on your mate, not be driven by instinct and who might bear the best babes. You can consider clan and their chosen craft and how they look! What if I find a Dwarrowdam mate and she's hideous!"

"You'll probably find someone completely inappropriate, like a cobbler, or… an Orc!" Fili teased, having to dance beyond the sharp slice of his brother's sword.

They both had a point, Bilbo thought. I would be nice to just fall in love with a person, which was completely a viable possibility, but for Alphas and Omegas there was more to it, the instinct, the compatibility. It did take away some choice. But Bilbo wouldn't exchange this certainty, this knowledge that Dori and Thorin were right for him, for anything. He was happy he was an Alpha. 

"So, sword work you say? Do I learn to swing today? Still can't use my left arm too well."

The lads cheered and handed Bilbo his sword.

He washed off at the water pump and readied himself for a beating. And, he wasn't disappointed.

~~~

Another two days passed and rumor had it that Bilbo's snarling moodiness was gone. His rut had passed, but Thorin's heat hadn't. It remained a low simmering drive versus the raging firestorm it could be, but the desire and pull still undermined completely clear thinking. 

He left the confines of his room for the first time in days, the unbonded Alphas keeping their distance. Dori took him to the bath and joined him in the tub. Thorin wanted to reach out to the other Dwarf, take him in his arms, feel his body hard against his own. Dori mindfully washed Thorin, scrubbing his back in a very clinical way. He knew, Thorin thought. And he was following Thorin's earlier request.

Thorin considered changing his mind, remember that kiss with Dori, the way his cock had even grown harder when he'd _sucked on Thorin's tongue_. Oh, by the Valar.

After the bath—and thank Mahal he was finally clean—he dressed in fresh clothing and returned to the big house. Dwarves were lounged around the fire on piles of straw and blankets. A few sat upon the large table, feet dangling from chairs. Beorn was pouring some milk into a glass with Bilbo near his elbow. Upon his entrance, every set of eyes turned to him. He caught each set as he scanned his Company. "I will be fine. I can travel, it's not like I'm an invalid." Thorin bristled whenever anyone tried to take care of him like he was six months pregnant with a broken leg. He would not be a slave to instinct and they had to move on. Though, as he scanned his Company of loyal friends, he saw the convalescence had done them all good. They looked happier, healthier. Well fed. Bruises and cuts long on their way to fading. 

Bifur pulled out a chair for him to sit. Thorin only glared at him. "We leave in the morning," he said. "Make sure we're packed."

Nobody questioned his decision.

"Are you sure?" 

Well nobody but the big bear man with is paw around the glass and wearing a milk mustache.

"Why should we not leave?" Thorin demanded.

Beorn whiffed the air, but said nothing. Next to Beorn Bilbo shifted, a small motion but something Thorin focused on like a cat hunting a small bird.

Finally Beorn huffed, a very gruff sound. "It is dangerous and you're body is wearing itself out with enticing your mate. And Dori is breeding." He set down his milk and crossed his arms over his chest, forming a solid wall of his observations and opinions. Kili took a step away from him.

"Excuse me, Beorn," Bilbo butted in with the general Hobbitish finesse, "but we are on a timeline, and going now, while Dori's early in his pregnancy, is better than later." Dwarves all around nodded. "Also, I have to wonder, do you know anything about a long tunnel about a two-hour hike north, a bit into the forest?"

The change of subject caused Thorin's indignant defensiveness to stumble. Everyone just kind of thawed and began exchanging curious glances.

Beorn uncrossed his arms, nodded. "The Passage to Hafiz."

"Hafiz?" Bilbo asked, rocking back on his heels with his hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. "Where is Hafiz?"

Kili explained, all puppy eagerness. "It's an underground city, though not a real city. It's a story place, from a poem, I think." 

"Well, couldn't it be real and the story is based on something long forgotten? Plenty of folks in the shire don't remember Tom Bombadil and think him a myth, but I met him once," Bilbo said.

"There's historical truth to that poem," Ori interjected, squeezing his sketchbook to his chest. "It's been documented by Quinin the Scholar from before the fall of Erebor. There's books on it in Eren Luin's library."

Balin cleared his throat, drawing all eyes to him. "It was an old passageway, after the betrayal of Oruin, Son of Duin, by Oropher of Greenwood, to move Dwarves under the nose of the Elf-king." Balin scratched at his beard and frowned. "I only have knowledge of its existence, nothing as to its destination."

"Or it's structural integrity after so many years," Bofur added. Bifur agreed. 

Thorin considered where this was going and though his mind was somewhat clear, he wanted everyone to think out all angles of this option. "And we cannot account for any damage delivered to the passage by outside influence. What if the Elves found out about it and caved it in? Or a terrible quake? We cannot count on the faith of this passage," he said.

"But we know there is evil in that forest," Bilbo countered, his tiny hands curling into white fists. "It's rotten. You can feel it in the soil, smell it on the air. Burns my feet! There's corruption there, and who knows how quickly it will take down even the strongest Dwarf."

The Alpha burglar and Omega leader settled into a stare-down that had the entire Company tense. 

Thorin would not and did not back down. Though he could sense Bilbo's Alpha nature raise its hackles, Bilbo simply pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded at Thorin, acknowledging his right to lead. Thorin relaxed, though he kept his body rigid. He did not want a showdown with his Alpha, and didn't think showing any sign of acquiescence right now would help his stance. At least they hadn't flooded the room with the scents of challenge. Bilbo had come a long way understanding the Dwarven way of things, but he was still a bundle of instincts.

Beorn tilted his great head and hmmed in thought. "The Wieselkin used it," his face twisted and his nose squished as he pondered, "oh, about twenty, thirty years ago. To escape the coming of the Mirk. The Brown Wizard knows about it too. Now that I remember, it might be clear."

"Do you think it safe?" Bilbo asked. Thorin almost protested, but stopped to consider the bear man's answer.

He pondered again then nodded. "If I had a breeding mate, I would not choose the way through the forest. There is darkness there, and evil. The woods are ensorcelled and any step off the trail could trap you. There is no food within. The water is tainted." He shook his head. "I would go the tunnel. Though, still you have no food or water, but at least the way isn't cursed." Beorn turned his gaze on Dori, and Thorin was a little shocked to see the care and tenderness there. Bilbo hissed. Beorn's ears twitched. "I would come with you, until the other side."

The Dwarves burst into chatter.

"I can take care of my mate!" Bilbo roared, face a wash of yellow streaks, Alpha scent flashing through the longhouse that drenched everyone into silence. Dori settled his hand on Bilbo's shoulder. "Do not think I haven't noticed your attentions, Beorn."

Beorn chuckled, which only seemed to fan Bilbo's indignation. "Oh, little stallion. I do not seek to take your mates, either one. I just want to help protect the young. Young are precious to Skin-changers."

"As they are to Dwarves," Balin said, stepping closer to the two males, hands up in a peacekeeping gesture.

"And Hobbits," Bilbo added, but it sounded a bit petulant. The colors were fading and Bilbo just looked shame-faced instead.

"Will you allow me to go with you, just through the tunnel?"

Everyone looked at Bilbo. Thorin sighed. "Yes," Thorin said. "We would accept your gracious offer. Not that we can't protect Dori on our own, but because it would ease all of our hearts to know another is here to guard him and his young." Bilbo blinked up at Thorin. Who said Thorin had no skill at diplomacy. 

Bilbo nodded and ran his fingers through his hair. "Fine. Yeah, that's fine."

They ate heartily that evening, sharing stories around the dining table, and worries about Mirkwood, the tunnel, and their path ahead. Dori sat between Bilbo and Thorin, a one-body barrier that only helped a little. Thorin longed to lean into Bilbo, whiff his scent, feel his warmth. He held himself upright throughout dinner, trying to relax his features but knowing he fooled very few. A trickle of slick still wetted his smallclothes. Bifur, across from Thorin, offered him a plate of eggs, apparently adopting Beorn's need to feed him protein. 

As night crawled over the revelry, Bilbo and Dori left for the barn, Dori nearly dragging the Hobbit from the longhouse. The other Alphas also left. Thorin sighed. It was so inconvenient. He checked his stash of herbs. With the high dosage he was on, his supplies were running low. He was tired of the taste of the tea, as well.

He sought out Oin. "Oin, do you have extra suppressant herbs. I do not wish to run out while crawling through this tunnel."

"There's more, Thorin." He began rummaging through a pack Thorin didn't recognize. Something from Beorn, obviously. "Though, I hope you won't need to keep this dosage up and your heat will end soon. Still, there should be plenty until it does." Oin handed over a leather bag and Thorin peaked inside, certain he'd already used more than this in just the handful of days he'd been in heat. 

"Thank you." Thorin returned to his room. Alone. 

A sheep came out from his room and baaed at him as it trotted away. The room smelled fresh, the linens changed and even a small collection of flowers on the table. Thorin lay down on the fresh linens, and did _not_ touch himself as he waited for sleep.

~~~

Having given his ponies, dogs, sheep and other animals instructions to follow while he was away, Beorn strapped a huge pack onto his back that could be modified for his bear form. He also offered the Dwarves bags of food, skins for water and sleeping rolls. Thorin left a note tacked to the door for Gandalf, who still hadn't returned.

"Thank you for these supplies, Beorn," Thorin said with a bow. "You have done far more for us than expected and we are in your debt." 

"I'm glad to help, Thorin," Beorn said with one of his toothy grins. "And this way I will know more about the tunnel. Maybe we'll find some of the Wieselkin."

Bilbo hovered near Thorin's elbow—Dori a step away—a buzz of anxiety and activity, constantly checking on Thorin and Dori. Part of Thorin adored the attention, especially due to his lingering heat, but another part just sighed. 

Before they began their trek, Beorn gestured for Thorin to speak to him in private, which was a trick to attempt with Bilbo on guard. 

"I do not know if the influence of the forest as sunk into the soil and ground. The forest can twist a mind, turn it on itself. I just wanted to warn you specifically. Your thoughts are not steady, not fully your own. You keep close to your mates. Listen to them."

"Because I'm in heat," he said flatly.

Beorn shifted his huge shoulders. "Of course. You might catch the scent of someone perfect for you and wander down a side tunnel. I know your will is strong as iron, but the wood is mad. Do not forget. If the poison has seeped deep into the stone and soil, It will affect everyone, strong as you are."

A two hour hike along the edge of Mirkwood brought them to the narrow mouth of the tunnel Bilbo had discovered on his wanderings. The mouth of the cave didn't give Thorin the ease most caves gave Dwarves. Instead, he felt a hint of sick malevolence. But it was nothing compared to the active hate wafting from the forest. Together, the Company, plus one Skin-changer, entered.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16 

The dark of the tunnel did little to hamper the Dwarves' progress, but Bilbo and Beorn required torches to light their way. The tunnel looked to have once been a natural lava tube, a twisting weave of basalt ropes lining the sides and ceiling, though the floor had been tooled smoother at some point in the past. In some places it was wide enough to walk four Dwarves abreast and in others, Beorn had to get down on hands and knees and wiggle through a crack only Bilbo felt comfortable in. Few tunnels branched off from the sides, but when they did, everyone raised their guard.

Kili, young and with the sharpest eyes, led the group, with Dwalin and Gloin close behind, then Beorn's huge form in the middle, followed by Bilbo, Thorin, Dori and the others, with Nori and Bofur taking up the rear. 

In fact, all of the Dwarves felt quite at home in the twisting tunnel; the solid stone offered a sense of comfort and ease to the children of Mahal. That first impression of something off quickly faded and Dori thought the Mirk only lingered on the surface, near the forest. They marched along at a steady pace, Bofur even humming an old mining song Dori recognized but didn't know the words to, the tune reminiscent to the Old Dunne Cow. The air was cool against his skin, slightly damp. It felt a bit like home.

But a musk clung to the air, a kind of wild animal smell that, at first, caused Dori to breathe through his mouth until its presence became unnoticeable.

Wieselkin. 

"Who were the Wieselkin?" Ori asked, his little brother obviously reading his mind. "Is this smell them?"

Beorn's shadow nodded along with his body, shifting and undulating with the curve of the wall. "It is. They are my cousins of a sort, the weasel people." He turned back and looked at Ori. "Though, not as friendly as the bear folk."

Oh, well that was certainly a reassurance.

"They live in warrens and had a chief who led them out of the Misty Mountains many years ago. Those previous warrens had been taken by Goblins, I do believe. Small folk, maybe a little bigger than a Hobbit. Attuned to dirt and stone, a little like a Dwarf. But they have a vicious bite."

"They a Skin-changer?" Bofur asked, as he climbed over a large boulder blocking the way.

"Well, they are cannot fully change their skin." Beorn rumbled out a deep laugh. "But I guess the bite would be just as bad." And he pushed himself through the tight space between stone and rock, grumbling when he scraped his palm.

The days went slow and Bilbo hounded Dori like a guardian dog, making sure he had enough food, water, and that he was never alone with Beorn, though Beorn was a perfect gentleman, even if he stared at Dori a little too much. Dori surmised the Skin-changer only want to protect him.

That wasn't the only thing keeping Bilbo busy. Dori's Alpha made sure to keep himself between Thorin and the unmated Alphas, who, the poor Dwarves, were at the ends of their own tethers with Thorin's heat so close and unending. 

Walking before Dori and Thorin, Bilbo cursed and stumbled, hopping about on one foot. Dori caught his injured elbow, the one not holding the torch he currently flailed through the air. Bilbo scrunched up his face, eyes watering, slipping his arm away. 

"Are you okay?" Dori asked, scanning Bilbo's small body. He was holding up one foot.

"I stubbed my toe," he groused. "Can't see my nose in this tunnel let alone the ground! Confound it!" 

"Let's break," Thorin called out. "Lunch!"

Dori helped Bilbo settle down on the rough, hard ground, kicking away larger stones that would not treat a Hobbit's tender rear well. Oin squatted next to him, taking Bilbo's foot into his lap. Dori watched as the other Omega's hands moved all over Bilbo's overly large and thickly calloused foot. His toe trickled blood, but that didn't stop Bilbo's eyes from rolling back as Oin pressed into his foot. Oin moved the big toe. Bilbo yelped, coming back from whatever pleasure palace he'd just gone to with having his foot massaged by another Omega. Serves him right.

Bombur, Bofur and Fili pulled rations from their packs, most of it all travel food, nothing that needed cooking. Hard tack, fatty, dried meats, dried fruits and nuts. Hard bread. Thorin drank from a water skin that had been stuffed full of suppressant herbs. The king sighed with displeasure. Dori frowned at him, concerned about his lingering heat. 

"Don't think it's broken," Oin said, taking out some gauze and wrapping up the tear at the end of Bilbo's big toe.

"Need someone to carry you, though the rockier parts?" Kili offered. "Poor little Hobbit, can't see where he's going."

Dori scowled. 

"Are you offering," Thorin asked deadpan. Dori stiffened.

Kili laughed. "I could, but I don't want to be torn apart by his Omegas," he said with good cheer and took a step away.

"Oh, by my faith, we would do no such thing," Dori said, but with a shared look with Thorin, he knew Thorin had had the same reaction. The idea of anyone… _flirting_ with their Alpha, even another Alpha, even in jest. Dori's sensibilities wouldn't put up with it.

The improper ventilation allowed no fire, so they put together a cold lunch of bread, cheeses and dried fruit. As they had no idea how long their trip underground would take them, they were all on rations. Thorin drank more of his cold infusion. Dori could tell by Thorin's scent the drink held little effectiveness. Dori nibbled on his second to the last piece of fruit, and when he looked down into his bowl, he found two crackers. They'd had crackers yesterday. Yesterday, he'd found an extra apple on his plate. As if he wouldn't notice the sudden appearance of an apple. Thorin also had magically appearing food, though not to the extent Dori had. 

Bilbo innocently munched on a slice of bread, close to Dori's side, touching, always touching, and the feeling of his Alpha near him gave Dori joy. He took up the crackers and ate them.

"Thank you," he said.

"For what?" asked his Alpha.

~~~

When Thorin woke nearly two weeks into their underground expedition, his reproductive organs ached. The herbs did nothing for the constant pain, and barely stamped down his need and the other side effects of his constant heat. Unfortunately, trekking through this endless tunnel, they could burn no fires and had no option to brew his tea. He tried to chew the herbs, but that just left him with a dry mouth. Soaking them didn't seem to work, either. His heat was building. Such a thing was unheard of. Oin couldn't help, either. "If you want it to stop," Oin had said three days before, "then I think you're going to have to mate, Thorin. I don't know what else to suggest."

Thorin was ready to give in, take Bilbo aside and get it over with, though the idea of mating here, on the rough ground with all the Dwarves nearby, had as much appeal as bathing with Elves. 

Thorin rolled up his blanket and reached for his pack. Bifur held it out to him. "Do you need anything?" the Alpha asked in their native language. The air smelled faintly of rut.

Thorin narrowed his eyes. "I'm quite fine, Bifur. Kindly step back."

Bifur whiffed the air, shook his head, whiffed again and more Alpha scent oozed between them. Thorin released his own scent, an I'm-not-interested warning. Bifur blinked, shook his head and staggered away. Thorin gritted his teeth.

Then he noticed his own Alpha's scent wasn't near, and neither was his Alpha. He jolted up, ignoring the sharp stab in his lower stomach, not from hunger, though that was also a constant pang. He scanned the Company, many were rousing, Bombur was already working on making a gruel that used little water and came out crunchy. 

In the blackness, Thorin's dark vision allowed him to see Bilbo's silhouette standing at the edge of the Company, facing up the tunnel, tail switching, in full transformation. His precognitive instincts had changed him for battle.

Thorin brushed his hand down Dori's arm as he passed by his co-Omega, giving Bifur as wide a berth as he could, the tinge of rut swirling around his head. He approached Bilbo slowly, making noise. He didn't need to; Bilbo seemed hyper aware of where he was, especially with his raging heat. Bilbo leaned into Thorin's side, rubbing against him with his cheek. Thorin wrapped his arm around his Hobbit and pulled him close, letting Bilbo slather his scent all over him. 

"Do you know what's out there?" Thorin asked. Bilbo must be very keen on the danger if he hadn't picked up on Bifur's rut.

Bilbo shook his head. "Sorry."

He rubbed Bilbo's right shoulder, releasing scent, trying to calm his Alpha. "At least we'll be ready. You've given us warning. I don't want you fighting. You're shoulder still isn't well."

Bilbo nodded, then looked at Thorin over his shoulder. His eyes were huge and lighter in color than they normally were. He licked his lips, then managed to say, "Me first."

Thorin frowned. He didn't much like the idea of setting his small Hobbit to the front of the line, where dangers awaited. But Bilbo did have that sense of threat. "Fine. Dwalin and Beorn will be with you at all times. And take your sword."

Bilbo nodded. Thorin knew better than to offer himself, with his heat he wasn't as sharp as he normally would be. His mind not as focused, his body sluggish, putting all of its energy into breeding rather than soldiering. 

"And Bifur. He'll march with you in the front," Thorin said louder, looking over his shoulder at the Alpha, who nodded at the command. 

Bilbo studied the other Alpha, whiffed the air and his lips rose, baring his sharp teeth. "I'll watch him," he told Thorin.

Dori approached them with two bowls. "Breakfast. Eat up so we can get going." He erected a smile for them, his usual cheer dimmed with worry and fatigue. Thorin's bowl was full of a thick mash. Bilbo's was watery.

Bilbo's ears shifted then he turned his gaze on Dori. "Why so watery?"

"You can't eat well with those teeth of yours, so you can drink this down."

The Alpha narrowed his eyes. "Whose water?"

Dori scowled at him. "Don't worry about it, Bilbo. Just eat." He turned around and marched away.

"Eat it. Don't throw away his sacrifice," Thorin said, spooning the uncooked gruel into his mouth without any enthusiasm. Bilbo slurped down his watery breakfast swallowing it down with his complaints, turning back to face the black tunnel before them.

~~~

Thorin tripped and Dori captured his arm. Dori could smell the heat-scent wafting off his king; it was stronger, more concentrated. He could also catch the affect the Omega's constant heat was having on the other unmated Alphas. Other than Kili. Family members were immune, luckily. The rut-scent of the Alphas made Dori a little ill—breeding with an Alpha's child, the scent had an opposite effect.

Thorin's brow was coated with sweat, but he marched on. Stones tore apart the path through the tunnel, having fallen from the ceiling and sides, tripping up many of the Company, but Thorin had it the worst. They trailed the Company.

Balin looked over his shoulder, hesitated, then turned back to the group and silently marched on. Dori released a held breath. 

Over two-thirds of their food was gone, though somehow Dori kept finding little morsels here and there in the pockets of the pack Beorn had given him, and Dori had a pretty solid suspicion on where it was coming from. He fed it to Thorin, who needed more calories due to his heat. Thorin ate it, chewing almost belligerently. 

Gloin, bonded and unaffected by Thorin's heat, and Fili marched before them, making sure to not get too far ahead. When they stopped walking, Dori looked up, unaware he'd been watching the ground as they'd been trudging along, trying to keep his own footing steady. The Company had halted. Dori released Thorin and shifted to the side to catch a glimpse as to why they stopped.

Bilbo was pacing, shaking his head, arguing with Dwalin. Beorn had donned his bear form, his pack straddling his back like saddle bags, the ceiling currently too short for his human skin, through it was nearly too narrow for his bear. Dori felt like they were marching down a throat, constricting, swallowing them up.

"Wait here," he told Thorin, and made his way through the Company, despondent and passive, to find out what they were talking about.

"No," Bilbo said to Dwalin.

"What's going on?" Dori asked.

Dwalin huffed, jabbing Bilbo in the chest with a finger. "Little runt won't go any farther. I wanna get outta this damned place, and Bilbo says 'no'."

Bilbo turned his huge eyes on Dori. He shook his head, his tail whipping from under the edge of his coat. Dori would have to modify it, so it had a tail flap. He should have done that at Beorn's. Well, he wasn't going to bemoan lost chances.

"How shall we proceed, Bilbo? We're over two weeks into the tunnel without enough food or water to go back." Dori tried to sound reasonable, but even he could hear the peevishness in his voice.

Bilbo hissed at him, then attacked a pile of rubble nearby, scattering stones and pebbles all over the tunnel. Dori took a step back, along with Dwalin, and they watched the Hobbit score the ground. Once the Hobbit dug to stone, Bilbo paced again, growling out low. Then he rolled his shoulders back and roared.

Dori gasped and shivered. Behind them, Dori heard Beorn huff. Bilbo was offering a scream of challenge. A threat. A warning that a Hobbit Alpha was coming. 

"What by Mahal's beard," Dwalin whispered. Then louder, "Way to announce us, halfling." He hefted his axe as if some foe would emerge from the darkness any moment now.

Beorn huffed again, rocking his huge head from side to side. Bilbo hissed at him, but not in challenge, more in some odd animal communication.

Bilbo screamed down the tunnel once more, the sound echoing though it should have died in the dense stone. The Alpha was panting, teeth bared. Dori'd never seen Bilbo so angry. 

"Bilbo," Dwalin barked. "Stop it. We're as ready as we can be, but we have to march on. The battle is before us and we will meet it."

Dori knew Dwalin was right, and so did Bilbo. "Fine," Bilbo said. Without looking back at the Company, Bilbo marched deep into the darkness, Dwalin carrying his torch for him, Beorn on their heels. 

"Stay with him," Dori called out. He pushed a stunned Kili and Fili up the column of Dwarves. "Watch Bilbo," Dori commanded and returned to Thorin, only to find Bifur on the ground, Thorin's fist clenched, arm at the ready to land another punch.

"Thorin, I only offer you help. I am at your service," Bifur said, holding his jaw. The Dwarf's mouth was open and he was panting fast. Rut-scent condensed within the narrow tunnel, making Dori feel green. Thorin slumped against the wall, his own breathing erratic. "You're unmated. You owe nothing to the Hobbit. He will understand."

"Bilbo hears you say that, you'll have a frenzied beast on you," Dori announced as he put himself between the Alpha and Omega.

Bifur stiffened, then in a lewd very unbecoming gesture, he cupped himself and squeezed, his eyes momentarily closed. Then he opened them and scrambled up to his feet. "Don't leave him alone, Dori." Then Bifur pushed himself away, through the column of Dwarves. Dori watched him, then caught the sight of Balin, staring back at them, nostrils wide. Nori grabbed Balin's arm and dragged him away. Ori watched Dori and Thorin. He mouthed, "You okay?" Dori nodded.

Thorin leaned against Dori, taking in his scent and they began to march with the rear Dwarves. "Why did Bilbo do that? What's going on?" Thorin was shaking, his breath coming in short gasps. A sheen of sweat coated his forehead and his skin was burning up. Damn Thorin and his obstinacy, though, if Dori were to be honest, this was not the best time for any kind of mating to be going on.

"Be ready, Thorin." Dori patted Orcrist. "I think we've an enemy nearby. He was… challenging them?"

"Warning them," Gloin said, his words inching towards them in the darkness. "Warning them to stay away. That's what that sound was."

They continued their march, another hour by Dori's internal clock. More side tunnels opened up, emptying into passages at odd angles to their tunnel. Dori glanced down one that angled up and forward. Musk scent roiled from the tunnel. They marched on until he noticed the angle had shifted.

"We're going up," Thorin said.

Had they reached the end? No fresh air yet, but all of the Dwarves lifted their noses, smelling for the telltale signs of a passage out. All Dori could smell was rut-scent and heat-scent. It nearly clouded everything other than that weasel musk. 

The tunnel widened and the scent of damp soil overpowered the scent of damp stone. And the stink of musk stuck to the stones. Thorin unsheathed Orcrist.

"Wieselkin. Will they be friend or foe?" Thorin asked.

Dori shook his head, pulling out his own sword. "I've no idea." 

Then they heard Bilbo and a great bear roar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finished NaNo, but did get way behind on this story. I hope to not upset my regular posting schedule much. Anyone else get their NaNo finished?


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

The scent hit him like Dwalin's fist, hard and without any apology. Wieselkin. Bilbo bared his teeth, instinct driving all sense of civility from his actions. If this was Hobbiton, and a Wieselkin showed up on the dirt roads of town, Bilbo and the other Hobbits might give the chap a once over to determine his intentions, and let him on his business. But Bilbo sensed threat. Threat to himself, his Omegas—one breeding, one in heat—and threat to his friends. He would not let any nasty weasel folk think they stood a chance against Bilbo and the Company, plus one giant bear man.

Bilbo clenched his fists, feeling his nails dig into his flesh, and roared, throwing the Dwarves into readiness as a Hobbit-sized Weiselkin appeared at the edge of the torch's light. Beorn huffed, swiping a boulder with his paw, sending it rolling toward the 'kin. Bilbo stuck near his Dwarves, stifling his urge to charge out there, draw the weasel folk off. He bit his lip, tasting blood. Up ahead, more 'kin surged towards the Company from a juncture of tunnels. Their numbers were uncountable, all slinking in under the dark, waiting to strike. With rough, demanding movements, Bilbo abandoned the front lines and pushed himself through the Dwarves to corral Oin, Nori, Dori and Thorin toward the rear of the fighting mass, ignoring Nori's filthy string of insults and the rut-scent from the Balin and Bifur.

"Bilbo, fucking get off me! I am not helpless. Damn you. Damn you and your Alpha cock, you little…" Nori didn't hold back.

Beorn growled, the Wieselkin halted their advance. The underground creatures chattered something, Beorn grumbled back. 

Nori took a break from questioning Bilbo's parentage to ask, "Are they talking?" His knives were at the ready. Oin hefted his staff, his large nose twitching at the stench.

"I can't see what's going on." Dori tried to move to the side, but Bilbo grabbed him and whined. 

"Maybe Beorn can somehow gain us passage," Thorin said, heat-scent setting Bilbo at the edge of fight or fuck. He licked the roof of his mouth, trying to dissipate the scent, only making it worse. 

Then Beorn bellowed, putting Bilbo's earlier challenge to shame. The torches fell to the ground and sputtered out as the Dwarves, though hungry and exhausted, readied weapons and faced off against the Wieselkin.

And thrust Bilbo into complete darkness. 

Well, if he couldn’t see the enemy, better the enemy had no chance of seeing him. Bilbo slipped on the ring he'd found in the caverns below the Goblins. All around sounds of battling Dwarves raged on. Dori pulled from his grasp. To his left Thorin yelled something in Khuzdul. The air rang with the sound of steel on steel, but it didn't last long. There was a thump. A cry out. A "What?!" that was cut short.

He couldn't see anything! More Dwarves cried out in Khuzdul and sparks flashed as blade hit blade and blade hit stone. He heard his name. A command to stay, and his name. _Thorin_ , Bilbo thought.

"Kili!" Fili cried out. Nearby Thorin gasped, "No," and the scent of his Omega's heat moved farther forward. 

Bilbo cursed and followed the scent, a slow scramble over stones and sharp rocks. He climbed over a larger mass of lava rocks, the scent of musk overpowering almost all other scents. Bilbo whiffed the air, caught his Omegas, the Alphas, the other Dwarves and Beorn. 

And uncountable Wieselkin.

Bilbo chewed his lower lip, tasting more blood, and climbed off the stone. Blind and invisible, he followed the sounds of struggle, curses and his nose. 

"Die, you filth!" Dwalin called out. 

Bilbo bumped into someone, soft fabric, a faint gasp. "What was that?" 

"Ori?" Bilbo whispered. Then louder, since he couldn't even hear his own words. "Can't see."

"Bilbo? I can't see you!"

"I'm invisible... What's going on? Where's Dori? Thorin?"

Ori oofed and flailed back into Bilbo, who tried to dance out of the way but Ori's heavy dwarven boot crunched down onto his unprotected foot. Bilbo gasped, hopping about on his good foot. Jagged stones dug into his soles. Ori was fighting someone off, the weasel musk heavy. Bilbo tried to stay out of the way, keeping his sword pointed toward the ground, away from potentially piercing his friends. He was useless. Useless!

"Stop!" a high pitched cry pierced the air. "Stop or we kill this one."

"It's Beorn," Ori said, no longer battling a 'kin. "They have him tied up. He can't move, there's no room!" 

"Why would you do this to us?" Thorin's words boomed in the tunnel. "What have you against the Dwarves and your fellow Skin-changer?"

"We scent the beast you brought in here to attack us, filthy, untrustworthy _Dwarf_." The voice dripped with disgust. "You wish for our warrens, since the dragon has taken your own. You wish for our jewels. You will not have it, you filthy stone-man. You will not take what is ours. Our Lord of Warrens will decide what to do with you. Bind them! Take them to the pit!"

Bilbo remained invisible as Ori rushed out, "Stay hidden and follow. We can't fight all of them right now." Bilbo growled low, but agreed. A thread of guilt wove its way through Bilbo's consciousness. What if it was all because of his damned desire to defend his Omegas? But he'd sensed danger early on. The Wieselkin were not to be trusted. 

The sounds of a scuffle and the thick musky scent of weasel and Ori cursed in Khuzdul, then Bilbo heard them stomp away. 

The 'kin chittered in their high-pitched, quick language. Bilbo remained frozen, holding his breath and focusing on calming his nerves. The foot patters retreated. Bilbo sniffed the air and followed, led by the scent of Dwarf.

~~~

The Dwarves and Beorn were dumped unceremoniously into a large cavern with high, steep walls and a slowly flowing stream of fresh water. A few torches lit the upper reaches of the pit, but mainly shadows rested at the bottom with the Dwarves. The only exit was a long ramp, gated at the top by a wooden spiked barricade that the Dwarves could demolish in under a minute if they had their weapons. Which, they didn't. No weapons. No packs. No food. Perhaps they could swim under the stone along the stream, but Dori knew he would have to be far more desperate to try that.

Dori stumbled to the stream and tasted the water. "Seems clean." He dunked his head under, cool and refreshing. With the palm of his hand and fingertips, he scrubbed away the dirt and sweat. He couldn't even smell himself anymore, stink or no stink. At least he wasn't as musky as the foul weasel people.

He wondered how Bilbo was. Ori had told him Bilbo was free. Invisible, though that didn't make sense. An Alpha transformation trick, maybe, one he hadn't confessed to? They just had to bide their time until Dori's Alpha figured some trick out. Not that he was going to wait around for rescue, but, knowing Bilbo still roamed these tunnels gave him some hope.

Most of the Dwarves gathered around Beorn, his huge form unresponsive. Oin checked on the bear's signs of life. "He lives. Drugged him, I think." He yanked a dart from the thick bear hide. Then another.

"And Kili. Kili took a dart to his thigh." Fili held his brother up. The younger Dwarf blinked, his face slack in a drugged state, but still scowling at the world around him.

"Dwalin's down too," Balin said.

"I ain't down." Dwalin stood, legs spread wide, fists tight at his side. "Where are those little biters? I'd like to see those weasels go one on one with a Dwarf!"

Beorn huffed, drawing everyone's attention. His body shifted, melted down to the man. He groaned and rolled to his side, then he propped himself up in a cross-legged position, naked since his clothing was stashed in his pack. 

"My cousins did this. I cannot believe such treachery." Beorn gazed up at the lip of the cavernous pit where torches burned steadily, then his eyes slid along the rim, then the barricade. Dori liked the look in his eyes. It was determined. Then Beorn shifted his gaze to Dori and he whiffed. 

Dori stiffened. "What? Is something wrong?" His hands went to his belly.

Beorn shook his head. "Nothing. All is well, Mister Dori. I was just checking." Then he glowered up at the barricade again. "How could they do this?"

"I think they want our gold. They want Erebor and think we'll lead them to it," Nori said, making his way to the river.

"They said they were worried we'd take over their own tunnels," Ori said, slightly green as he surveyed the dirty pit. "As if we would want to live here."

"Did mention jewels," Gloin added. "If there are jewels here, I think we take 'em in payment for such treatment!" He threw his hands down as if throwing his axe. Oh, Dori knew how he felt. If only his sword was still in his hand.

"Do you think Bilbo's okay?" Fili asked.

"Shush, they might not know about him," Nori said, scrubbing away at the streak of blood on his arm.

Dori felt his insides knot up and he needed—he scanned the pit and found Thorin by the creek side, dressed down to his shirtsleeves, washing his face. Dori went to his co-Omega, catching the rich scent of his heat without even whiffing the air. "How are you?" Dori asked, brushing the back of his hand along Thorin's cheek and neck, feeling his tension relax as he marked his king's heated skin. "Come on; let's get you in the water."

Thorin didn't struggle as Dori led Thorin to the far side and stripped him down. 

"Bifur, sit the fuck down," Dori could hear Nori scold. "You're not his Alpha."

Dori talked to Thorin, low and calming. "The water is a bit cold, but it will feel good on your skin." The heat-scent swamped the pit when Dori took off Thorin's trousers. Oh, the poor Omega. He'd never heard of a three week long heat. He would be in a better state if he'd just mated with Bilbo, pregnancy be damned. Dori didn't feel any different so far. 

"I'll get some soap." Dori knew Oin kept some soap in his coat pockets. He sat Thorin down upon a rounded stone and went to the healer to collect the small bar. Upon his return, Bifur stood in the water, pressed against Thorin. Naked Thorin in full heat. His hands gripped Thorin's rear. How in the halls of his fathers had the Alpha snuck over here! Bifur licked along Thorin's neck, scenting him. Thorin leaned into Bifur, arching his neck, pressing his rear into Bifur's hungry touch.

"Bifur. Stop that!" Dori grabbed the Alpha and tore him from Thorin. Exerting little effort, he tossed Bifur back to the shore. Thorin fell on his butt with a splash. "Nori! Help me!"

Nori appeared. "Fucking Alphas." Though not as strong as his brothers, Nori wasn't a slouch, and he grabbed a protesting Bifur by the collar and dragged him away. Bifur was reaching out, desperate. Dori sought out Balin, who was as far away as possible, propped against the wall, face buried in his palms. 

This had to stop.

Dori stripped himself and pulled Thorin to his feet. Thorin followed like a sleepwalker and didn't shy away as Dori washed him. Building a mild lather, Dori brushed the soap over Thorin's body, scrubbing away blood and dirt, trying to wash under armpits and his neck where the scent was strong. With rough movements he scrubbed off Bifur's scent. When he moved to Thorin's groin, Thorin's hard penis jerked in his palm. As Dori's hand brushed against Thorin's entrance, Thorin groaned and leaned against Dori, dropping his head to Dori's shoulder. Jutting his hip, he pushed his entrance towards Dori's roving fingers. 

Dori pressed his lips together, making his decision. With gentleness, Dori slipped two fingers into Thorin's ready backside. Thorin gasped, but didn't move. 

"Shh," Dori said. The sound of the river covered up their noises, but he wasn't sure if Thorin would really be pleased if the others knew what was going on in the far corner of the Wieselkin pit.

The angle was odd, and Dori had never done this to another Omega in heat. The sensation was arousing, the warm and pliant heat practically sucking in his fingers. Thorin's inner walls felt like silk, the muscles caressing Dori's fingers. Dori bit his lip, his own breath coming faster. He bent his legs to get a better position and dug his fingers in deeper, the channel slick and welcoming, and with his other hand took a hold of Thorin's stiff erection. Thorin, silent as the night, latched onto Dori's arms, squeezing with a might fueled by desperation.

"This okay?" Dori asked. His own penis had filled and his mind kept returning to the heat around his fingers and his own unattended erection. It would fit right in; that deep entrance wanted to be filled.

Thorin took a moment, but he nodded against Dori's shoulder.

"Okay, just relax."

Thorin chuckled, a strained, dry noise. "I'll try."

Remembering exactly how he felt when Bilbo touched that nodule inside himself, Dori pressed his fingers in various angles until Thorin gasped. Dori exhaled with relief, and then pulled his fingers out and pushed them in again, fast and hard, hitting that pleasure knot in repeated stabs that, he hoped, would give Thorin the union he needed.

"Oh Mahal," Thorin moaned. His fingers dug bruises into Dori's flesh where Thorin scrambled to keep a hold. "Dori. Thank you. So good."

Dori continued to finger Thorin, rubbing his penis in harmony with his thrusts. Dori's own arousal thrummed like a deep tone echoing within his lower belly. Thorin grasped onto him, holding him desperately as his hips began to shake, thrusting tiny little motions as if unsure if he wanted to be impaled or find that friction on his shaft.

Dori knew what he needed and turned Thorin a little more so he could dig his fingers in deeper. And deeper he went and faster. His fingers could only go so deep, and images of him slipping his own penis into Thorin's heat tore through his imagination. Thorin wouldn't stop him. It would meet his needs far better than Dori's fingers… Dori squeezed his eyes and shook those thoughts away. Water sloshed as Dori dove in faster, giving away their actions as if he'd announced it at the top of his voice. Curse it. Fingers were a poor substitute, but Thorin had asked to not be bred, and Dori had nothing else to do the job with. 

It really didn't take long for Thorin to stiffen and cry a soft mewl as his body tensed. Orgasm hit him. His inner walls clenched around Dori's fingers, a vice grip. Dori's balls tightened at the feeling. His jaw hurt as he clenched his teeth together. But Thorin's penis had not ejaculated so Dori didn't stop pumping. After another pull, and another, a second orgasm hit Thorin and he poured semen out into the water, clutching onto Dori's arm as the dual sensations hit him and his body shuttered. 

He held Thorin for a few minute as the other Omega caught his breath. Thorin looked up, eyes wide and open. He kissed Dori. 

Enraptured by the sheer pleasure of Thorin's mouth, Dori kissed back, not sure if he could take much more, but when Thorin's tongue danced with his, he didn't stop to consider his own state. Dori groaned and clutched onto the other Omega, tasting him. He pressed his body against Thorin's for a brief, delicious moment, then pulled away.

"Better?" he asked Thorin, as he rested his forehead against the other's.

"Yes, thank you." Thorin sighed deeply. "The ache is less."

"And the pleasure?" Dori asked with a smirk, shocked at his own audacity to be flirting with his king at this moment when they were trapped in a pit against their will.

Thorin lifted his eyebrows. "Was unexpected."

Dori smiled and grasped the back of Thorin's head. "Bilbo will get us out of here."

"We cannot wait for him. Who knows what these weasels will do to us. We've no food, no gear. We need to escape."

Dori nodded, their foreheads scraping together. "We will not be idle, my king."

They parted, and with some renewed vigor, Thorin scrubbed his smallclothes in the river. Mumbling a dissatisfied groan, he pulled them back on. Erecting his old dignity, he donned the rest of his filthy clothing as did Dori, trying not to bend his stiffened penis in an uncomfortable angle within his trousers. Dori, followed by Thorin, joined the other Dwarves. Bifur whiffed the air and keened, but wisely said nothing. 

Beorn looked up. "Are we all together now?" he bear man asked. He blinked and Dori realized he could barely see in the darkened cavern.

"Yes," Thorin said. "We must come up with a plan."

"Can we rush them?" Bifur asked, his voice having gone deep and gravely. 

"There are many of them," Thorin said, a hint of his exhaustion slipping through. "We need to do some exploration, see if we can get out of this pit on our own first."

From up above, an amused, high voice called out. "Thorin, son of Thráin, son of Thrór, returned to the east." A form stood at the top of the pit. Shorter than a Dwarf, scruffy hair. Dori couldn't see any fine details from that far away. "What brings you to my lands, Thorin, King under the Mountain?"

Thorin, hair wet, clothing filthy, stood tall and firm. "My travels are my own business, but we are for the Iron Hills to see my cousin, Dain. Why is it you've taken us captive?"

"Is that so? We heard the cry of a savage beast. Perhaps you brought it and meant it to attack us. I do not take such threats to my people kindly, stone-man." The Wieselkin stepped up to the edge of the pit's rim. 

"We're in control of no beast," Thorin said. "And we mean no threat to your people." Thorin spoke through gritted teeth. Dori shared in his rage. Around him, tension vibrated the gathering. "We have Beorn, a Skin-changer. He will not attack you unless in defense."

The shadow shifted, hands settled on hips. "Several of my soldiers reported the beast. Not the bear-man. I think you hold your tongue too well, oh king. And perhaps some time in my pit will convince you to take us to your mountain, to your treasure." The little weasel cackled. "In payment for the threat you place my people in. We long for bigger tunnels. You shall share yours."

~~~

Silently, and invisibly, Bilbo had followed the Company taken into the Wieselkin caverns. He had to make sure he didn't follow too close, for several scent reasons. He was filthy, and he was an Alpha angered by a threat to his Omegas dancing on the edge of a rut. He struggled not to release scent, but in such stressful situations his reaction was instinctive, written out in his very bones. 

He hated the blindness set upon him. There was no way he could keep up with his captured friends. He maneuvered by feel and smell until finally, his heightened vision caught a hint of illumination. 

He followed some trails of light to find a large cave that almost seemed like the fabled underground dwarven cities. There were doors and stairs and there appeared to be little shops and homes. In the center was a fountain with a statue of a person. Nothing fancy. No great carvings, no rare gemstones. Just carved basalt. He could smell the scent of soil and mushrooms, of animal musk and sewage. What did they eat? They had to get supplies somehow, and that meant the outside couldn't be far. 

First, he thought to himself, find where they are keeping my Dwarves, then find the way out. With that goal in mind, he trotted towards the first tunnel and the heavy stink of weasel.

~~~

"Hey," Bofur yelled up at a Wieselkin perched at the lip of the pit. "Are you going to feed us?"

"How do we get to the gold!" the little weasel called down.

"Pass through the dragon's lair first," Kili challenged, throwing a well-aimed rock at the 'kin.

Thorin commended his Dwarves and their determination, but he just couldn't help… couldn't focus. Couldn't think. In all honesty, he couldn't lead. And neither could Balin. Perhaps it was Fili's chance to prove himself.

Thorin's heat raged through his body. He was ready to call Balin or Bifur over to have an Alpha mount him and have done with it. The Alphas' scents only built on his own heat, though his body knew they were not _his_ Alpha. Dori alieved some of the want, but it came back like a starving cat, waiting for the next handout, yarwling for attention. 

But it was only one day. They had only been there a day. He could wait. 

And wait. And wait.

But, maybe, he couldn't.

"Thorin." Dori brushed his hands through Thorin's hair. Thorin leaned into the touch, allowing himself this comfort from his co-Omega. "You're scenting the air again."

Thorin glanced over to the other Dwarves. Bifur and Balin stared at him, tense and ready. Even from the far side of the pit, where he and Dori had sequestered themselves, he didn't even need to whiff the air to catch the rich scent of rut. Two Alphas in rut. Vying for him. He preened a little. They both wanted him, and wasn't he a prize? They would battle for him, for his favor and the right to mount--he shook himself out of his daze.

"Not intentionally," he said. 

"I know. I know. They know too." Dori pressed a kiss to Thorin's temple. 

"Beorn," Thorin called out. The big man rose and came over to Dori and Thorin. "Can you change into a bear and take down that barrier?"

Beorn nodded, his whole body rocking with the eager motion. "I could do that. Then we would be in these tunnels, not knowing how to get out."

Dori sighed. "We need to get someone up there, someone quiet and sneaky."

Thorin growled. They all knew who was the best at that. 

"My brother would do it," Dori said reluctantly. Dori had never approved of Nori's… extra-curricular activities. "He's sneaky. He could survey the area and find a way out, then we could charge…"

Dori stopped talking and whiffed the air the moment Thorin also caught the scent. They looked up and around at the lip of the pit. Nothing. Thorin heard the tickle of stones falling near the stream.

"Bilbo," Dori said in a half-breath.

"Alpha," Thorin rumbled deep in his chest, and he instinctively scented the air: relief and lust and devotion mingling with the odors of his heat.

"Little stallion. I can small you, but cannot see you," said Beorn in a low rumble.

Then Bilbo appeared. Just appeared out of nothing. Fangs and claws and tail, still in Alpha transformation. He threw himself on Thorin's lap, rubbing his face all over Thorin's beard and neck. All that collected tension, coiled and ready to unleash, slipped from Thorin's body. He purred, brushing his hands over Bilbo's small form. Bilbo tugged at Thorin's clothing, and Thorin didn't hinder him, instead he tugged at Bilbo's trouser ties. He needed Bilbo. Needed his cock, needed to be mounted and penetrated and filled. Forget all his reservations. He needed that knot to lock into him.

"Oh, ow, a moment. Tail!" Bilbo kissed him gently, mindful of his fangs, then climbed out of his lap to carefully remove his trousers. 

"Ah, perhaps I should…" Beorn turned around and lumbered away.

Bilbo's cock was at full erection. Thorin was a little impressed at the size. Then Bilbo shucked off his top. Naked, the Alpha reached up to kiss Dori. Thorin watched, waiting to feel territorial, but all Thorin felt was want. 

"Dori," Bilbo said, voice thick and sultry. "You're both okay?" Dori nodded, kissing along Bilbo's face, spreading scent over each other.

Thorin stood and yanked his trousers and small clothes off. 

Bilbo growled but didn't lunge for Thorin. He looked to Dori. "Okay?"

Dori nodded. "Yes, Bilbo. His heat has gone on too long. I'll make sure you have some privacy."

Thorin couldn't give a stone chip for privacy, but he nodded his thanks to Dori and paid little attention as the Dwarf walked to the far side of the pit and the gathered Company.

Thorin grabbed for Bilbo. "I need you to fuck me. Fill me. _Now_." He wanted to say more. A litany of the sweet words that roamed through his mind in conjuncture with Bilbo: Love. Treasure. Gem of all Gems. Dearest. One. But he kept those words hidden away, tightly until they slipped between his lips in sweetest Khuzdul, a blessing upon his tongue.

Bilbo buried his nose in Thorin's cotch, whiffing his scent. When Bilbo sat up, he whined and gestured at his body… his claws, his fangs. "Don't want to hurt you."

Thorin paused a moment, considering the danger to his person versus the anguish he'd been in for weeks. The maddening want. "You won't."

Bilbo nodded. "Down. Need to taste you." 

Without question, Thorin dropped to the ground on all fours, spreading his legs. Bilbo drove athis entrance and began licking Thorin's juices. By the stone! Thorin nearly came right then, an instant, hard physical reaction. The small tongue lashed across his inflamed entrance and Thorin swallowed down a howl. The air flooded with Bilbo's scent, rich and heady, different than his normal scent. Contentment spiced with need pooled in Thorin's belly, mixing and charging through him, a wash of pleasure and release. He stuffed his hand in his mouth and bit as his orgasm stampeded through him, knocking him over. He splatted the wet ground with come and Bilbo hmmed, his tail whipping in the air behind him. Instead of feeling relieved, Thorin felt more spun up. He dug his fingers into the dirt as his Alpha continued lapping at his entrance, his tongue plunging in, twirling. Thorin swallowed his groans, but lowered his chest to the ground, giving Bilbo a better angle. Already Thorin's cock was refilling.

Bilbo made a frustrated noise, then sat up. "Over. Over." Thorin rolled over, spreading his legs as Bilbo crawled over him. "Can't—" he held up his fingers and wiggled them, sharp claws evident on the ends. "Going in now."

Thorin nodded. Whatever! It didn't matter as long as his Alpha did his job.

Bilbo leaned over Thorin, licked along his chest, and finally—finally!—Bilbo slid into him. Vision going blurry, Thorin couldn't stop the cry, couldn't swallow it down like he had all the other noises. Pressure and heat and molten silver swirled at his belly, balls and cock. Some disconnected need inside shifted, clicked, and all of his desperation released its grasp and for a moment Thorin could only feel. 

"My mate. My Omega," Bilbo growled, his voice feral and rough in his Alpha transformation. His hips jerked and his pace was fierce. Thorin grabbed for Bilbo as his Alpha snapped his hips, rolling slightly at the end of the movement. Thorin arched to meet the thrust, his own cock aching, trapped between his belly and his Hobbit. Bilbo dropped his angle and in the next shot hit Thorin's prostate. 

"Oh, Mahal," Thorin groaned out, struggling to be quiet, to not alert the weasels. Pleasure and desire tore through him, clawing away and leaving a mark he could never be rid of. Not that he wanted to.

Bilbo grunted over him, keeping up the rhythm. His eyes huge, his ears oversized. His fangs piercing his lips, leaving drips of blood over Thorin's belly. He could sense Bilbo's own struggle. Thorin squeezed around Bilbo and the Alpha huffed, his thrusting faster, more needy. Both of their bodies slid along his erection. Thorin loved it. The feeling of his Alpha deep inside him. No other Alpha had ever made him feel like this. In huffed-out breaths Thorin coaxed, "So strong. So fucking hot. You're my Alpha." He groped for Bilbo's hands, and he grabbed onto Thorin, leaving scratches on his skin. "You, I want you. No other Alpha, ever. My mate. Mine."

Bilbo growled and pounded Thorin. "My knot," he groaned. Thorin felt the catch at his rim. In the next breath, Bilbo's knot anchored them together, swelled inside his entrance and Thorin curved his back, coming a second time. The deep seated orgasm of his Omega parts and the ejaculation of his cock. He couldn't stop the cry as his mind went blank. Couldn't stifle the call, and then Bilbo grunted, keened, low and dark, and Thorin could feel the pulsing beat of Bilbo coming deep inside him.

Bilbo panted, his fingers crawling up Thorin's torso until they splayed through the come puddle on Thorin's belly, spreading his spunk around.

"What's that noise?" a weasel called from the lip, holding up a torch. Bilbo grabbed Thorin's coat and pulled it over them, going still. 

Well, not totally still, inside Thorin's channel, Bilbo was still coming.

Thorin could hear Beorn growling something, but didn't pay much attention to the words. Bilbo was still petting him, still touching every inch of Thorin he could reach. A delighted groan mixed with Bilbo's pants as he tried to catch his breath. Thorin could feel Bilbo licking along his chest, spreading little kisses all through his chest hair. "Love you," Bilbo said. "Thorin, my Omega." He kissed him again, his body shivering every so often, and under the blanket Thorin petted Bilbo's hair, grainy and greasy and so wonderful to touch.

"My Alpha," Thorin mumbled, then his eyes slipped closed. 

He woke when Bilbo moved inside him. "Thorin, okay?" A long slow glide of Bilbo's cock, in and out. Leisurely. Lovely.

"Yes." Though he had a backache at the terrible position they'd tumbled into. Tucked under his coat, they had a modicum of privacy. He lifted his legs and wrapped them around Bilbo. "Deeper."

Bilbo acquiesced. "Yes," he growled. "Mine." He licked along Thorin's chest some more. 

Thorin ran his fingers along Bilbo's ear. The Hobbit shivered, growling low. "Mine," Thorin agreed.

Their second mating was slow and divine, and Thorin could feel every pulse and shiver of Bilbo's cock as he ejaculated inside Thorin. Knotted, Bilbo continued to brush the tender places within Thorin, pulling forth another set of orgasms. It was like nothing Thorin had experienced. Typically, he mounted others, his cock earning all the pleasure. In heat, though, the pleasure from his breeding parts heightened the experience into something mind-numbing.

He didn't want it to end. 

He cursed himself, not for the first time, for waiting.

But as Bilbo continued to ejaculate, Thorin's mild dread of becoming pregnant inched its way into his pleasure. Oh well. It was Mahal's will now. Nothing Thorin could do about it. He held his Alpha tight, scenting him, claiming him. Bilbo was his.

How much time had passed? All he knew was his rear was sore and his heat felt like it had gone. Totally. After only two matings. Thank Mahal.

Bilbo slipped out and along with his cock came a gush of fluid. "You filled me with a flood, Bilbo," Thorin said in a kind of dreadful awe.

Bilbo chuckled apologetically. "Hobbits do." He nuzzled Thorin's thighs.

No wonder they were so prolific. Thorin stood on shaky legs, kissed Bilbo gently on the lips, and washed himself off in the river, unmindful of who might be nearby. Bilbo joined him. He leaned into Thorin, a warm, tender gesture. Bilbo's tail whipped through the water as he said, "I think I found the way out."

"Good." With little ceremony, they made their way out of the water and dressed. "We shall leave immediately."

"Wait. Give me another few hours. I want to make sure." Bilbo looked up at him, eyes huge, reflecting the faint light from the pit's lip.

"How did you go unseen, anyway?" Thorin asked, running his fingers along Bilbo's jaw. Bilbo leaned into the touch. "Another Alpha transformation trick?"

Bilbo paused for a moment, eyes not meeting Thorin's, then they returned and he shook his head. "No." He held up a little ring. "This." He put it on and vanished.

Then a trickle of stones and Thorin knew his Alpha was gone.

When he returned to the gathering of Dwarves, everyone looked relieved. "Your heat is done," Dori stated, his own body seeming to relax as if he was under as much stress as Thorin.

"Yes. It seems it just needed two matings." No use being vague. The Alphas still lingered on the edge of rut, but their scents too were dissipating. He did wonder if this would produce a child, but he would know sooner or later, certain Beorn would tell him. Obviously he hadn't been on any contraceptives at the time. He sighed heavily. 

"After so long in heat, your body was probably just happy for anything," Oin said in a told-you-so tone Thorin did not approve of.

Nori slapped him on the back. Thorin lifted one eyebrow at him, not that the Dwarf could probably see that detail in the dim light. "I do not envy you that heat. That's all I gotta say. So, how we getting out of here? You need me to shimmy up there and have a look-see, or did Bilbo found a way out?"

Thorin appreciated that the other Dwarves didn't pretend nothing happened, but also weren't going to dwell on the fact that their king was fucking just moments before only a few yards away.

"Bilbo is checking on the way out, then Beorn will take down the barrier and we'll rush for the exit. Grab anything you can as a weapon, but also, watch out for those damned darts. You get hit with one, take it out immediately. Ori and Bofur, you two keep watch on Beorn and remove any darts in him immediately. Other thoughts, suggestions?"

They discussed the thin plan from various angles, while Bofur and Nori sent jibes up to the weasel folk to cover up their planning. 

When they were finished Thorin approached Dori, gently touching his elbow. Thorin wondered how things would change between them. All three of them. "You okay?"

Dori's chin rose. "With you mating with our Alpha? Of course, Thorin. We talked about this."

Thorin shook his head. "Just making sure."

"Though, I do feel bad for you. Just twice, in a place like this." Dori leaned forward, sniffing Thorin along his neck, probably catching Bilbo's scent all over him. "Next time you're in heat," he said in a whisper, "make sure you have a big bed and plenty of time."

Thorin chuckled, brushing his hand along Dori's side. "I will try to plan for that." Then he kissed the other Omega, a gentle thing without any passion but full of tender regard. Dori smiled at him and they gathered with the other Dwarves and waited for Bilbo to return.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Bilbo's nostrils flared under the onslaught of weasel stink. He continued to trace the stream of fresh air he'd caught earlier, the pure essence of _outside_ like a ribbon through the stench as it left an impression upon his soft pallet. Though typically a quiet walker, Bilbo kept bumping stones and kicking pebbles, leaving behind hints of his passing he hoped none of the Wieselkin scouts would follow. So far, he'd been lucky.

Then he chuckled to himself, making even more noise. Thorin. _Thorin_ had accepted him. He wanted to dance, to climb to the top of the highest tree and shout out to all that he has won his Omegas. Both of them. Everyone needed to know it! A happier and more contented Alpha never existed. Bilbo was grinning, he realized. Grinning mad like a Brandybuck when the fall casks of liquor were cracked open. So much so, his cheeks hurt. He licked his lips, still tasting Thorin on his tongue. 

Oh, for the love of the Green Lady, couldn't he have had more than a few hours with him!

Soon, Baggins, he thought to himself. Soon you can partake of that lovely Omega's warmth and arms and love in a … more appropriate place. He would continue to think that. He was an optimistic chap, after all. Considering all that he'd gone through to gain Dori and Thorin, a little waiting wasn't about to sour his delight.

A window of light glowed into existence as he climbed up the tunnel. Light! Fresh air and green things and _light_! He could see! 

He picked up speed, racing towards the roughly rectangular door that grew and grew to nearly two Dwarves tall by the time he reached it and burst out into the failing day. He could see that it was evening, though the brightness nearly blinded him. The tunnel opened up on the side of a rolling hill, still somewhat within the domain of the poisoned forest, though the sickness hadn't the same hold on the land here as it had near Beorn's residence.

"Wot's that!"

"I heard somethin'. Over there."

Bilbo stiffened and then examined his closer surroundings. Two Wieselkin guards—scruffy hair, filthy woolen clothing, with small snouts jutting from their faces a little like Bilbo's own muzzle while in transformation—stood just inside an indent off the main tunnel. Now blocking his way back to the Dwarves. Wielding short spears with very nasty looking pointy ends. 

Oh drat it all.

Bilbo waited, holding his breath, hoping they didn't come out into the light, right smack into where he stood, invisible to their sight. 

One sniffed. 

But… unfortunately, not their nose.

"There!" One Wieselkin leapt forward, spear jutting into the space Bilbo had just been, before he threw himself _forward_ , into the other 'kin, and tackled the wiry fellow to the ground. 

"Oi! It's got me! Rith, halp!"

Bilbo scrambled to his feet, smacking the little bastard with his tail, and ran willy nilly into the dark tunnel, hoping to find his blind way back to his Dwarves in the twisting tunnels.

~~~

Bifur bowed again. "Sorry, my king. I was a rat and I cannot--" It had been going on for the last span of minutes, this desperate apology. 

Thorin shook his head. "Bifur. It was no fault of yours. It was just… bad circumstances. Do not worry yourself." He unfurled his arms, leaving them at his sides, trying to appear less… kingly, he guessed. 

"But I treated you poorly, Thorin." Bifur dropped to his knees. "I swore to you my spear and my loyalty, and look—"

Thorin groaned in frustration. "Bifur. Get to your feet. Stop this groveling. I’m no maiden with delicate sensibilities. I understand. You did nothing I couldn't defend myself from. Now, be ready." He wondered if a kick to the Dwarf's knee would snap him out of his self-recrimination. 

"He's just worried Bilbo will find out and take his stones," Nori said sotto voce, passing behind Thorin's back.

Bifur's head shot up, head shaking in denial. 

Thorin growled at Nori. "Stop egging him on."

"Shh," someone hissed. 

Thorin stilled and listened. There was a noise, a rise in voices. The clamor grew louder and then he distinctly heard. "The beast! I smell the beast!"

Thorin snatched up a large stone, bounced it in his hand to measure its heft. It would do. "Get ready." Beorn stepped away from the Dwarves and took on the skin of a bear in a near silent transformation. The Dwarves were poised and prepared.

~~~

Bilbo burst from the small tunnel into the grand cavern lit with a swarm of smoky torches. The statue in the center now loomed larger than life as the shadows and light danced a macabre version of the summer flings around the Party Tree. Encircling the statue: a swarm of Wieselkin, all armed and angry.

Bilbo kept close to the cavern wall, heading for the pit that trapped the Company, when a weasel with ratty clothing screeched, “The beast! I smell the beast!” The screaming rose to a riotous froth. 

Damn, and he wasn't even in rut anymore. Really, it was quite embarrassing to know his smell flooded the cavern when he wasn't even releasing scent. A bath, as soon as possible, was in order.

The lighting was horrid, and the weasel musk overwhelming, but still Bilbo skimmed his eyes over the gathering, counting hundreds of the nasty little creatures dressed in patched and ragged tunics. Most had feet bare like a Hobbit. What did they live on? Where did they grow or hunt their food? They were worse than Goblins. Swarming, smelly, wheedling things.

He must get to his Dwarves. Bilbo squared his shoulders, eyed the masses, and then continued slinking along the edge of the cavern. Etched within the morass of shouts, Bilbo could make out a repeated phrase that he thought probably meant “Kill the beast”. A knot of 'kin hovered near the edge of the cave wall and Bilbo wrung his hands, squinting into the twilight as he sought out a passage through the mass of warriors.

He could get low, squat-waddle around the gathering. One weasel scratched its chin with a clawed hand, much like Bilbo's own. A hunched over weasel trotted up to the group, chittered in a mix of Wieselkin and Westron; the others chittered back. Bilbo sighed. Would they just be done with their little conference so he could skip on through?

“Beast! We can smell you! Leave, or we kill the intruders!”

In a sharp instant, everything went still in Bilbo's mind. Bilbo's nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth. His nails cut into his palm as he stalled his urge to lash out. These filthy bastards threatened his friends! His Omegas! 

“One's head on a pike might do it!”

Bilbo's mind snapped.

~~~

Ear piercing screams cracked the tense silence and the Dwarves, with one communal look between the lot, charged for the wooden barrier, Beorn galloping in the front.

“What do ya think is goin' on?” Bofur asked Thorin. “Bilbo?”

Thorin shook his head. Bofur's guess carried as much weight as his own. What it was, was a distraction and they would add to the chaos to find freedom. How Bilbo, even in his Alpha form, could cause such havoc, was beyond Thorin's current imagination. Fist clutching his stone, Thorin was ready to smack heads until he was able to gather a better weapon, eyes open for Dori—a step behind and to his right—and watchful as Beorn raised a mighty paw and demolished the wooden barricade, unleashing the Dwarves into the Wieselkin warren.

Dwalin shouldered his way through a muddle of the 'kin, Thorin tight on his tail. With one blow, two, three, Thorin dropped Weiselkin to his left and right. They fell like rotten wood and he instantly growled at the stupidity of this entire situation. Armed though they were, they had as much skill as Bilbo did with a weapon. On top of that, few of the vermin even noticed or seemed to worry about the Dwarves, most facing away, towards the brawl happening at the center of the cavern. 

Thorin grabbed a Wieselkin by the scruff. “What is going on?”

The little man—he thought it was male—stared up at him with over-sized eyes. He squirmed and Thorin shook him until he spoke. “The beast. It will destroy us!”

Thorin nodded. “Yeah. Probably. You should never have captured us.” He cursed in Khuzdul and dropped the Wieselkin to let him scamper off. 

Gloin roared his name. Warrior's attention on the mayhem surrounding him, Thorin glanced up, a short sword sailing through the air his way. Thorin tossed the stone to his left hand and snatched up the sword with his right. He drove the sword through the shoulder of his enemy, the creature's eyes bulging at the strike. Thorin brained it in the next blow.

Like spearing pigs in a pen. 

“I see Bilbo!”

Thorin turned his body, aware of the four 'kin surrounding him, all fighting in a distracted manner that created little challenge for the Dwarves. He blocked a sword blow, but gained a slice on his hand holding the stone. He twisted and smashed the creature in the head. With a quick shift of his gaze, Thorin saw Bilbo pop up from the crowd and dive down on something Thorin couldn't see.

"Stop this!" Thorin bellowed. "You are weak, stupid creatures. And that beast, he will kill you all. Stop fighting. Lay down your arms and we will call him off."

Dori shot a glance at Thorin, his own captured and bloodied sword stayed at Thorin's words. None of the Company seemed pleased at the slaughter. One Wieselkin, with a larger puff of hair on its head, stared up at Dwalin, shivering in fear, its small sword lying useless on the ground. Bifur yanked a dart from Beorn's shoulder. Why had they even captured them? For the glory and gold of Erebor? How did they expect to truly take it if they were this cowardly, this faithless in a fight? Reliant only on poisoned darts and helpless without them.

“Do not threaten—” a pause and Bilbo continued his scream, “what is mine!”

Thorin nodded at Dwalin, then at Dori, and they pushed through a lost and defenseless mesh of Wieselkin, others of the Company following, forcing their way to the one Hobbit mayhem at the foot of a statue.

Bilbo, in full Alpha Transformation, was pounding on a large body of a Wieselkin. The individual wasn't moving anymore. In the dim torchlight colors weren't discernible, but Thorin was certain the glistening coating Bilbo wore was his foe's blood. Bilbo leapt from the body to the foot of the statue and roared again. “You will return,” he took a breath, his chest heaving, “what is mine!”

Dori grabbed Thorin's arm. “The statue...”

Thorin tore his eyes away from his Alpha, a little thrill of fear and excitement rooting through his body, stirring ill-timed desire. The statue was of a Wieselkin, but with horns and a long spiked tail. Another Alpha Transformation, it must be, like a Hobbit. And the Alpha 'kin had his foot on the body of a small dragon.

It was almost comical, to consider an Alpha Wieselkin defeating a dragon. Unless the proportions were incorrect, and Alpha 'kins grew to be the size of a mountain.

The 'kin all dropped to their knees, wailing, crying. Begging for mercy at Bilbo's feet.

“Please beast... Lord, we are sorry. Sorry for threatening yours. Don't kill us. Please…"

Thorin whiffed the air. He could sense no Alphas or Omegas. Dori marched forward, knocking through the 'kin. Thorin tried to stop him, but the other male was soon beyond reach. Bilbo spotted him and leapt through the air, practically hovering like a bird at the apex of his leap, before he landed at Dori's side, yanking him away from the mass of Wieselkin. He hissed at the surrounding throng. Then his eyes widened and he sniffed Thorin's direction. Thorin remembered, Bilbo couldn't see well in this dim light.

He made his way to his Alpha. When he was within an arm's reach, Bilbo clutched at him, rubbed his scent glands all over Thorin's face, then returned to mark Dori. Bilbo spoke, voice low between Thorin and Dori. “I know way out.”

Thorin allowed the marking, taking comfort in the gesture and scents. His gaze traveled over the mass of Wieselkin, all looking their direction with wide, fearful eyes. Ears back and throats bared. 

“Their statue looks like you,” Thorin told Bilbo. Then to the crowd of 'kin, “Who is this? Who is this statue of?”

None spoke up. Thorin elbowed Bilbo, who shrugged. “No idea.”

Thorin huffed. “No, tell them to speak.”

Bilbo blinked up at him and turned his squinted gaze out on the crowd. “Why would they talk for me?”

Thorin wanted to shake his Alpha. “Just do it!”

“Speak!” Bilbo roared out, then rolled his eyes at Thorin.

“It's Jurisa! Lord Jurisa!” one quaking Wieselkin said through quivering lips. "The one who made us."

Thorin thought through the Gods of Middle-earth, the dwarven, elvish, and mannish names for each, and Jurisa did not ring any kind of a bell.

"You dare to go against our Alpha!" Nori yelled, drawing Thorin's, and everyone else's attention to him. "Lord Jurisa, upon this very land, and you threaten those he protects!"

Thorin scowled, ready to demand Nori stand down, but Dori gripped his arm, shaking his head. 

“Our Alpha is from the direct line of Jurisa! Can you not tell?” At Nori's spun tale, Bilbo stiffened.

A muttering amongst the smelly weasels spread, a mix of chitter and Westeron that Thorin could only make out splashes of. 

“That can't be true.”

“Get the Lord of Warrens.”

“Let us free!” Thorin bellowed. “And we will not unleash the wrath of our Alpha.”

Bilbo looked at him, a somewhat disappointed expression, but Thorin didn't apologize. If words got them out of this smelly hole, he would use them in any way. Honestly, he was shocked Bilbo didn't approve.

“Let the Lord decide," said one Wieselkin.

The Wieselkin eeped in a frenzy, but at least none of them were attacking anymore. They'd withheld further use of their body numbing darts as well. The gathering milled around like lost and afraid dwarflings, looking at each other. They could possibly charge out of there, Bilbo said he knew the way. Beorn huffed, swinging his huge head from side to side.

A larger than average-sized Wieselkin with a long tail and a ruff pushed forward. The others parted ways for him. As he grew closer, Thorin could detect a distinct Alpha odor. 

“You,” the Lord of the Wieselkin said in his piercing voice. “I will defeat you and prove to all,” here the Lord lifted his arms and turned, “that I am the descendant of Jurisa, not that thing--” he thrust his finger at Bilbo. 

Bilbo huffed in annoyance. “I'm fighting this…Lord?” he demanded of nobody. His teeth glinted in the faint torchlight. “Just let us go!” He looked beseechingly at Thorin, as if he had control of this crazy situation. He hadn't had control at any point during this entire quest, and he feared he couldn't save Bilbo from this desperate situation he'd been thrust in.

“He looks like Jurisa...” Thorin heard a 'kin mutter in airy wonder. “Maybe his brother?”

Bilbo growled, his tail whipping between Thorin and Dori. In the minute movements of his body, Thorin could sense that Bilbo was ready to fight or bolt. 

Dori grabbed his arm. “Bilbo, what are you thinking?” Dori asked, low and demanding.

“Get us free with little killing.” Bilbo stared at Dori, the mental battle evident on each male's face. “I take one on one challenge, or...” Bilbo scanned the gathering of Dwarves and Beorn, “--friends die.”

"I think the battle will come out entirely different," Dori said as if speaking to a child.

"Still, someone dies," Bilbo grumbled, and then touched Dori's face, a gentle caress. 

“You're going to be okay,” Dori said, though Thorin thought the words were meant to convince himself, not Bilbo.

“Yes,” Bilbo said, nodding, then he turned away and crawled through the forest of Dwarves to face down the Lord of Warrens.

“Thorin... Bilbo hasn't eaten. Hasn't slept. I … I'm worried,” Dori said, gripping Thorin's arm. Pain spiked when it felt like his bones were ground together. “I will not stand by and let that filth kill him. Know this.”

Thorin took in a deep breath, then regretted the action as his nose filled with weasel stink. “We must give him this chance.”

“And why do you think these animals will stand by their word?” Dori demanded. Thorin tore his eyes away from Bilbo facing down the larger Wieselkin, both wild, their tails slicing the air. Dori's mouth was pressed into a frown, his nostrils wide. Worry stained his expression. A desperate worry he was valiantly trying to hide away.

“Bilbo will not fall. Remember, he is doing this for us and for the 'kin. To save their sorry asses.” He jerked his chin as the musky host of Wieselkin. “If it looks like Bilbo is in true danger, I will not regret wiping this clan from the forest.” It came out more a growl than he intended, but the truth and conviction burned with each syllable. 

Dori lifted his chin and watched, hand wrapped around his stolen blade. Like his co-Omega, Thorin only wished to strike down these foes and save his Alpha from this gladiator ring. 

Bilbo hissed at the Lord, claws stretched and ready to rend. "You and me," Bilbo growled.

And the Lord leapt at Bilbo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone has a happy holiday season!


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo the Wiesel King.

Chapter 19

Bilbo jumped, avoiding the 'kin Alpha easily as he twisted in midair and came down in a poised crouch. But the 'kin was quick too, steppe cat quick, and Bilbo wasn't prepared for his foe to turn at the last minute and the two cracked, claw to claw.

His foe's breath nearly knocked Bilbo out. As bad as orc breath. All these people needed was some nice tea, a hot bath, and a week or two to scrub out their warrens. They'd begin to see things in a different light then, Bilbo was certain. Be more courteous to visitors, at the minimum.

Bilbo scrambled away, tail flicking through the air, seeking out any weakness, any window to quickly take this fight to its end. He was not a warrior, not like Thorin or Dwalin. Kili would probably do better than Bilbo in this clash. Oh, be bother it all, what had he gotten himself into?

"Bilbo, focus!" Thorin growled from the sidelines.

Oh yeah. He'd gotten himself into a battle to save lives. Wieselkin lives. He needed to do something, and quickly.

A tail whip caught Bilbo on his leg. He hopped back again, wishing he had his sword but not really wanting to kill his opponent. Bilbo hunched over, making as if to bowl the 'kin over. The 'kin braced himself, but Bilbo bunched his enhanced legs instead, leaping through the air. The 'kin noticed his feint, but too late. Bilbo slammed into him, tossing them both rear over teakettle into the surrounding wall of 'kin that bulged with their incursion. 

Bilbo rolled immediately to his foe and grabbed at his throat. The other Alpha pounded on Bilbo's arms. Teeth bared, Bilbo earned a tight grip as the 'kin thrashed, beating Bilbo's back with his flailing tail.

The Lord kipped his hips, popping Bilbo off his seat and then shifted his weight. He heard someone scream, "Roll with it!" and thought it might be Kili. Bilbo tried, but he was a gentlehobbit for all that was green! He didn't know how to 'roll with it'.

He canted his hips and thrust the 'kin Alpha onto his side, but he couldn't continue the roll to regain his dominate position. A knee jerked up, getting Bilbo in his tenderest of spots. He ooffed, stars splattering his vision, but a shift in the 'kin had him scrambling away, arms up, claws ready to lash out. 

His stomach pinched tight at the blow. Zipping his eyes form 'kin to 'kin he finally found the Alpha. Blood smeared his face that Bilbo didn't remember drawing. The Alpha's chest was heaving and he glared with pure hatred. Bilbo was a little affronted at that. He wasn't the one who'd captured them and forced them into this situation.

Bilbo lowed his hands and stood up straight. He would not lose himself, like he had with that other Wieselkin. "This is ridiculous," he scolded. "Two grown males huffing and puffing like dogs. We should sit down and discuss this like civilized—"

The Alpha charged, shouldering Bilbo in his chest, evacuating all his air. Bilbo scrambled at the male's back, digging gouges out of his flesh. The Alpha howled and made to bite Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo bristled. That was the bonding spot! One did not just bite another there, the scandal!

Bilbo squirmed away, backhanding the Wieselkin and then twisting and popping in the air, coming down on the other's shoulders. He wrapped his hands around the 'kin's thick neck and squeezed for all he was worth. These were gardening hands, baking hands, writer's hands! He was not a completely helpless Hobbit of leisure. 

The 'kin clutched at Bilbo's fingers, digging his claws into Bilbo's wrists. Pain, sharp piercing gashes sliced through Bilbo's skin. He gritted his teeth, squeezing, squeezing. Around them the 'kin had gone silent and all Bilbo could hear was the amorphous cheers of the Dwarves and the pounding of blood in his ears. The clutching desperation fueled a mild beating from the weakening 'kin, but soon his blows became frail and eventually stopped all together.

Bilbo immediately released the Alpha, springing back.

"Did he kill him?" Bombur asked. None of the Dwarves responded. Everything was quiet.

"Come on, then," Bilbo said. "Don't… You have to get up. I didn't—" Bilbo squatted next to the prone form and put his fingers over the Alpha's mouth. No breath. His chest didn't look like it was rising. A murmur trickled around the gathering. 

"He killed the Lord."

"The Lord lost?"

"It's the true Jurisa! The true Lord!"

Bilbo paid no attention. He shook the Alpha. Patted his cheeks and pounded his chest. "Come on, now." He leaned forward and listened, but couldn't hear a thing. Didn't feel a thing. There was no breath. The Alpha… was dead.

"No!" Bilbo roared and punched him in the chest again. The heart was inside. He knew it was in there and he knew it pumped the blood. He knew breath was needed as well. He closed his mouth around the 'kin's muzzle and puffed out a great lungful that filled the Lord's chest, then pounded on his chest again.

"What's he doing?" Bofur asked. Words and noise and nobody was helping him!

"I think… he's trying to revive him." That was Dori. And Bilbo was glad to have him near, but he couldn't stop. This whole match was a joke. There was no purpose to this death.

"Breathe. Breathe!" Bilbo kept puffing into the other's mouth and then pushing on his chest. A quiet circle surrounded him. 

"Bilbo," Thorin this time, "Perhaps you should let him be."

"But he'll die!" Bilbo spit out. "I didn't want him to die." He could feel the hot tears now. It was stupid, just so stupid.

"Bilbo, just stop. There's nothing—" Dori began, but he was cut off.

"No, let him be. I've seen such revivals before," Oin explained. "If the spirit hasn't been called away, it can come back."

With such encouragement, Bilbo put his elbows into it, kneading the 'kin's chest and then breathing into his mouth. The surrounding 'kin began to rustle, but Bilbo didn't listen. He just watched and pumped and breathed until the 'kin's body stiffened, his back arched and he gasped out for his own breath.

Bilbo looked up from the living, breathing Alpha, smiling at the Dwarves and the host of Wieselkin. Only Oin smiled back. "Good job, lad," he said. The others looked on in awe and shock. The 'kin all fell to the ground and prostrated themselves, writhing in the dirt and begging the mercy of the new Lord. 

Then, a white flash of light blinded the gathering. "What is it that transpires here?" came the great booming voice of Gandalf.

~~~

The arrival of the Wizard threw the somber silence into a flurry of squealing as the 'kin scattered as if a dragon had entered their warrens. Thorin was not impressed with Gandalf's timing. Wasn't he supposed to be helping them on this quest? This last minute too-little, too-late attendance was amounting to no help at all.

"Bilbo revived that 'kin, the Lord of the Warrens," Kili said in reverent awe. "Brought him back from the Wieselkin halls, wherever that is."

"Not in any place near those of Mahal, I should say," Gloin added, glancing around his surroundings, visible now with Gandalf's bright stafflight. "Nasty crumbling stone, this."

Dori stood behind Bilbo, guarding his back as the Alpha 'kin gasped and groaned. Bilbo ignored the Wizard, focusing on the male he'd just brought back from beyond. Thorin didn't know what to think, other than amazement at Bilbo's powers. His Alpha could stall the hand of death. 

Dori glanced over at Thorin, his own face pale. With a beseeching hand, he tried to pull Bilbo away, but Bilbo wouldn't budge. "I just need to see him to his feet. That's all," Bilbo said. But the Wieselkin Lord didn't look up for any physical feats of strength, like standing. 

"We must council with the Wieselkin," Gandalf said. "We cannot leave them if they wish for aid. They are easy pickings for the influence of Gundabad." 

"Fine," Thorin agreed. "We shall meet with whatever leaders they have and come up with some treaty, but I have little time for this, Gandalf. You know Durin's Day comes upon us."

"Yes." Gandalf held his staff up high, lighting the warrens. "But this has importance in its own right."

Thorin narrowed his eyes at Gandalf. "What is it you are not telling me?" Thorin knew the Wizard kept his own council, knew he kept secrets about Thorin's own quest from him. He was a scoundrel and a silver-tongued knave. A man who knew too much and would only eek out tidbits to others to keep them coming back for more. Though his quest for Erabor was his rightful legacy, Thorin often wished it had come to him through more forthright quarters. Like his own grandfather's inheritance. 

Gandalf's eyebrows bunched together like some scolded hound. "Too much, I must admit, my friend. But the weight on your shoulders is challenge enough, I do not wish to burden you further."

Thorin bristled. "If there is threat to reclaiming—"

"There is always threat! And not everything turning in this great world is about you and your mountain, Thorin, Son of Thrain," Gandalf scolded. "There is more at stake here and I feel the final battle will soon be at hand." Gandalf's momentary ire faded and his grandfatherly mien reappeared. Thorin frowned. "I will help you however I can. I dare say, you've already quite the Company at your service."

Hiding his pride, Thorin crossed his arms over his chest. "But we've still miles to go and a dragon in our halls, waiting."

"You do not believe it dead?" Gandalf asked, his bushy eyebrows raised.

"Bilbo doesn't," Thorin said, eyes darting over to Bilbo and Dori, hovering over the now sitting Wieselkin. 

"He is wise. I do not believe Smaug dead, either."

"Then how do we deal with him?" Thorin demanded. "Will you kill the beast with your power?"

By now the other Dwarves were focusing on his and the Wizard's conversation. Gandalf just shook his head. "There is much left to determine, even once we find the way into Erabor. Finding out more about these people might benefit you in the long run."

Thorin pursed his lips together, inhaled through his nose. "I can't see how."

Thorin waited for more, but the blasted Wizard left him to go to Bilbo and Dori. Left him with questions unanswered and a vat of irritation to deal with. "Nori. Bofur, go check out the extent of these tunnels, but be careful. Do not let these weasels trap you."

~~~

The Wieselkin Lord refused to sit at the rickety wooden table with Bilbo, Thorin and Gandalf, though the fourth seat waited for him. Instead he kneeled at Bilbo's feet like a penitent, seeking absolution for some grave evil and released scent that urged Bilbo to loom over him and growl. Beorn stood nearby, his sketchy ability to communicate with the Wieselkin would hopefully come in handy. Most of the Dwarves were out in the common area, going through their returned packs and canoodling with long missed weapons. Really. 

After the battle, and Oin tending to their wounds, both Bilbo and the Lord of the Warrens had shed their Alpha Transformations. Bilbo nearly collapsed in relief, until he caught the scent of defeat off the other Alpha. That had him strung up as much as heat-scent, but it did entirely different things to his body.

"Please, do just get up," Bilbo urged, grabbing onto the male's elbows for the fifth time, trying unfruitfully to get him to his feet. This bowing and scraping thing just wasn't done. 

"I am overthrown. I am shown my weakness. You are my new Lord," was all he would say in response, baring this throat. 

The scent of the Lord's submission twirled through Bilbo's mind. He blinked, shook his head, looked over at the Gandalf and Thorin to see if they could scent his submission as well. Neither looked affected.

A few other 'kin in shapeless tunics stood around with clay pitchers of water ready to serve. A colorful plate took up the space at the center of the table, holding an assortment of dried fruits and meats. It was quite the nice tea nibbles in Bilbo's mind. They just needed tea. Aromatic tea, to cover the—

"Oh, please do stop that scenting. It's driving me right up the wall," Bilbo demanded. The Lord just crouched lower.

Beorn whiffed and growled. "He won't stop. Not for now anyway." 

Bilbo gritted his teeth, trying to keep himself together.

"So, you're saying Bilbo is your new Lord of Warrens?" Thorin asked.

"But I can't be any such thing. I'm a Hobbit, not a Wieselkin." Bilbo did not want to be saddled with taking care of these poor people just because he didn't kill their leader. How silly was that?

"You are the Master," the Lord, or ex-Lord, said.

Bilbo huffed. "Well, I can't stay here. So… you must be the regent, until I return."

Thorin grunted next to him, nodding. Oh, must he grunt? Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to go insane deep inside this mountain. Just lose it and start chewing on stones and foaming at the mouth.

"That's a lovely idea, Bilbo," Gandalf said. "Now, I say, you… do you have a name?" he asked the groveling male.

The Alpha sat up and faced Gandalf. "Butterslip," said the 'kin.

Butterslip? Now, if that wasn't a near Hobbitish name, Bilbo didn't know what was. 

"Are you the only Alpha? Do you have any Omegas?" Bilbo had to know, his curiosity was chewing at his nerves as much as the dank hole in the ground. 

Butterslip looked up sharply. The defeat-scent lessened and Bilbo felt himself relax just a titch. "Did you want the Omegas for yourself, Lord?" he sounded like something uncertain and unhappy boiled underneath his subservience.

"Oh no!" Bilbo shouted, causing the other 'kin to flinch. "I have my own, I don't want any others."

The Wieselkin Alpha relaxed and nodded. "We have three. They are protected deeper within the warrens." He seemed unsure about giving this information. "I am the only Alpha."

Hmm, interesting. "And all the rest are Betas? Every last one?" That just seemed so imbalanced. The 'kin nodded and Bilbo asked, "Is one of these Omegas your mate?"

The male looked up, eyes squinted against Gandalf's light. The scent changed again, and Bilbo felt his eyeteeth ache. "All of them are, as is my right as the Alpha. Which is why I asked if they would be yours now."

"Your right as an Alpha." Thorin nearly spat, sending the 'kin to cowering, the scent shifting to defeat again. Bilbo held back the urge to smack him, see him flinch once more. "Bring the Omegas up there now."

The 'kin looked to Bilbo. "Yes, yes," Bilbo said, "do as he asks." He needed out of that room, away from the pheromones and to find some fresh air.

"Omegas are not property, you filthy vermin." Thorin banged the table, causing even Bilbo to flinch. Gandalf leaned slightly away, bushy eyebrows elevated in surprise. "They are individuals with the same rights. You say they are rare and cherished, but you are more rare." Thorin flung a gesture at the Alpha. "A single Alpha in these entire warrens! Shouldn't you be shunted away, trapped without any way to escape your station? Shouldn't they be the ones protecting you?" 

Another scent, one of fear, curled from the 'kin. Bilbo's gut began to churn. "Thorin, please calm down. We don't know their ways."

"It's always the same. Even you, Bilbo, thought to treat us differently!"

Bilbo was on his feet before he realized he stood. "I did no such thing! I understood once you explained that Omegas were not different from Alphas and I have not treated you differently." Too much, too much. He felt something angry and tense bristling up his spine.

"You're body does. You change, you become more aggressive whenever we are threatened." Thorin was in a right fervor now, eyes wide, teeth bared. 

"I want to protect you because I love you, you fool!" Bilbo roared back. "Oh for all the… yes, I do want to protect Omegas. It's not something I can stop, but I don't mollycoddle you. I don't stop you from battling, or leading. I want you to be you, Thorin. Fully you, and happy and I want to be by your side in any way I can. Please, don’t lump me together with the other Alphas who have treated you poorly." He pressed his knuckle into the center of his forehead. "And you," he turned on Butterslip, "stop scenting the air, by all that is green!"

The room had gone silent.

Then behind them, a female 'kin said, "Is this to be our new Alpha?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas and New Years!


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Bilbo hated looking away from Thorin, but Thorin's attention shot to the newcomers, so Bilbo's gaze tracked his by its own volition. Three smaller 'kin, apparently female if breasts and softer features were a good measurement, clung together, shivering in their pale gowns of flax, clothing more fine than anything he had seen in the warrens. 

"Are you the one who brought the Lord—" one of the Omegas elbowed the speaker in the side, "Ah, Butterslip, back from the dead? Lord?"

"Ah, yes, that would be me.” Bilbo bowed. “Bilbo Baggins, at your service. But there was nothing magical about it. It was just a lucky happenstance—" he stopped talking as all three dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves as the entire population of 'kin had done when he'd resuscitated Butterslip after their battle.

"No, no, none of that," Bilbo said reaching out to empty air, but not wanting to go anywhere near the Alpha's Omegas. "Please, get up now. That's good." They slowly climbed to their feet, unsure and leaking fear-scent. Butterslip watched them, sorrow in his eyes, his own scent full of anguish. 

"Are you happy?" Thorin demanded from the females. 

The one who spoke up flinched away, batted her long lashes in fear more than anything to entice.

"With this Alpha, does he please you? Treat you well?"

The three lady 'kin edged away from Thorin, shifted uncomfortably and looked to Bilbo. Bilbo rubbed at his temples, trying not to whiff the air. "You are our new Alpha now, my Lord. What is it--?"

Bilbo foresaw a cart wreck in the making and rushed to say, "Oh no, you see, I have my Omegas. Thorin here is one of them. I do not want any others. Nope, no siree. What he wants to assure is that you are happy with Butterslip. We wouldn't want to remove you from a happy home, but if you are not happy, perhaps we can help you find some other situation." There, that was reasonable. Reasonable until Butterslip groaned as if in pain.

Bilbo's gut clenched sympathetically at the sound. He couldn't even imagine what Butterslip was going through, to think he would be losing his mates. He stepped closer to Thorin, needing his presence. 

"You're an Omega?" said the spokeswoman Wieselkin. The others, one on each side, clung to her.

"Yes," Thorin said gruffly. "We've four Omegas in our Company, and all of us fight and work and lead as we see fit.

The Omegas went pale. "You go outside? Into the world with the Goblins and the Orcs?"

Thorin's scowl darkened. Bilbo bowed to the ladies, then to the males around the table. "If you'll excuse me, I think we need Dori."

~~~

Dori patted Sunnymay's hand. He'd just spent quite a bit of time explaining the world, and to be completely honest, he'd only touched on a very few things. The Wieselkin Omegas were, to say the least, shocked. 

They were sitting together, the three ladies and himself, in a tiny little room that had an actual rug on the floor. The weave was rough, loose in places, probably crafted by unskilled hands. He wondered what the artisans of the Wieselkin made. What was their specialty? What media called to their souls? Did they even have artisans?

“And Dwarf Omegas can do what they want, like Alphas, or the others?”

They didn't really have Betas, so Dori understood. Alphas and Omegas were only born from Alpha and Omega matings, except for once in a very rare happenstance. So, in essence, the Alphas and Omegas ended up being too closely related and birthrates were atrocious. Butterslip, having been brought in from another Wieselkin clan to the south, was not actually the ladies' brother, but he was a cousin of some sort. 

“Look at me,” he said encouragingly. “I would have never met my Alpha if it were not for this journey.” It seemed the Wieselkin Omegas were so _cherished_ (Dori still wanted to scream) they were kept inside the center of the warrens, never to go outside. Never to do a thing for themselves. They were children, really, with their sole purpose to produce children. None of them had ever become pregnant and Dori could see it was the one aspect of strain in their lives.

“And you are a male Omega?” the shyest of the ladies, Willowfluff, said. “Such Omegas are very rare. There are stories, but...” She stared at him with her huge, bulging eyes.

“Yes, well, it's a fairly normal thing for Dwarves, Hobbits, Men and Elves.”

“And the new Lord is a Hobbit?” Sunnymay asked with intense interest. "What is a Hobbit?"

Dori bristled a little, though he desperately tried to keep his temper. These 'kin would not take his Alpha and there was no more room in their family for more Omegas. Two was certainly enough.

“Bilbo, _my_ Alpha, is indeed a Hobbit. They are gentle folk, who like to farm and live in houses built into the soil.” Dori rubbed at his stomach absentmindedly. He wondered if they were all bonded to Butterslip, then their situation really must be tearing them apart. To think about being away from Bilbo, and he and Bilbo weren't even bonded yet... “But he will not take you away from your Alpha... unless. Well, you see, you have a choice. If you want to stay with Butterslip, if he treats you well, then everything is fine. But if you're mistreated—”

“Oh no! We are cherished highest amongst all!” Sunnymay gasped. 

“So, you're happy. You love Butterslip?”

The 'kin females blinked at him, as if he'd slipped into Khuzdul. Oh dear.

“Do you wish to remain with him?” Really, the question shouldn't be that hard. “You have other options. Stay here, or... ah, leave. Go to some other warrens, perhaps.” He hated mentioning leaving, because they only cowered.

“But if we left, who would be our Alpha. You said the Lord was not to be our Alpha because he is your Alpha.”

“Yes—”

“Please, Dori, might I ask a question?” interrupted the timid Redshard “Why do you keep rubbing your stomach?”

“Oh." He smiled to himself. "It's become habit. You see, I'm pregnant.”

And then the three ladies burst into excited questions. “By your Alpha?” “How long?” “How can you travel with child!”

And then Sunnymay said, “If a mating with your Alpha brought you to child, he could give us children too!"

Dori's mouth dropped open, momentarily stunned. Then he calmly got to his feet, said definitively, “No,” turned and walked out.

~~~

Bilbo didn't quite know what caused Dori to charge down a tunnel, snatch him up from where he was talking to Thorin and snuggle him. Bilbo might have emitted a tiny squawk, but quickly snuggled back, burying himself in Dori's strong hold, covering him in scent. Without consciously doing so, Bilbo began to purr.

A coal fire warmed the room from where it burned away in a pit below a ventilation shaft. Thorin had been blowing off steam and Bilbo had let him, allowing the king his moment of private vexation. Bilbo didn't know what would happen with the Wieselkin, but a reprieve involving hugging was welcome. 

“What is wrong?” Thorin demanded. On edge, Thorin wanted to leave that place, but was torn between escape and making sure the Omega 'kin were fine. But more was wrapped up in his tone, shifting Bilbo's notice from basking in Dori's enthusiasm to the distressed scent Dori was struggling to hold back. Bilbo released his own scent, a soothing mix of protection and comfort. 

Dori reached out and grabbed Thorin, pulling him into their embrace. Bilbo's purr ran away with itself, encased between his two mates. Then Dori's body language changed. He went from desperately clingy, to more relaxed, pressing different parts of his body to different parts of Bilbo's body that had those parts perk up in notice. Dori's scent mellowed, then altered to the sweet scent of interest. Bilbo purred even louder, but he had to find out what had riled Dori. 

“Dori?” Bilbo asked, drawing out his name while rubbing his hands along Dori's armored sides.

Dori inhaled a soft little sigh. “Bilbo, you're mine. You will not bed those Omegas.”

Bilbo stiffened. Thorin stiffened. Bilbo studied Dori's face. “No. I will not. Only you and Thorin, you know this Dori.” He petted his Dwarf's face, scratched through his beard with trimmed nails. Thorin's strong arms held him tight between them. “You're my... Twos, well whatever. I'm for you, and you for me.”

Dori nodded. Kissed Bilbo on the lips, a slow lingering invitation, and nodded again. “Good.”

“What is this about,” Thorin asked, his words rumbling through his firm chest through to Bilbo's back.

Dori rolled his eyes and huffed. “Those Omegas are so brainwashed they believe their only value is in having children. When they found out I was pregnant...” 

Bilbo was beginning to see the picture. “I'm no stud to be passed around!” He couldn't quite—Oh, the nerve of those females!

Thorin, to Bilbo's shock, laughed. “Bilbo, our stud.” Then his chuckle faulted. Bilbo looked over his shoulder at the king looking down at his own middle. “I certainly hope you're not that virile.” 

Bilbo snorted through his nose. Of course he knew Thorin did not want children, at least not right now, but still. Thorin caught his amused irritation, then braced his large palm against the back of Bilbo's head and pulled him forward. Bilbo went willingly and earned a kiss. Thorin's tongue licked along Bilbo's lips. Oh sweet Yavanna. Bilbo sank into the kiss until Thorin ended it with a lick to his lower lip.

“You understand me, right, Ghivashel?” 

“Yes, yes. Of course, Thorin.” He relaxed, letting the two Dwarves keep him upright, letting their close proximity and scent simultaneously sooth and rouse him. 

Dori nuzzled Bilbo, reminding Bilbo of his interest—not that Bilbo had forgotten. They'd finally reached it, that inevitable awkward moment where they hadn't worked out the _rules_ of being in a relationship of three. How to bring it up—

“Shall I assure you two some privacy?” Thorin chuckled, rubbing his wrist along Bilbo's cheek, then Dori's, leaving swatches of scent behind. 

Dori, eyes wide, mouth slightly open as he whiffed scent, nodded. “Yes, thank you, Thorin.” He sounded as relieved as Bilbo felt.

“Ah, the randy young.” Thorin laughed again. Bilbo relaxed. He wasn't sure exactly what to expect. Annoyance at any delay. Territorial aggressiveness. Disappointment. Jealousy. But Bilbo could whiff none of those scents from Thorin. And then he was alone in a room with a smoking fire and a very amorous Dori. 

"You will not have anything to do with those other Omegas," Dori demanded, kissing along Bilbo's cheek.

"No, I won't," Bilbo agreed, grappling for skin under his Dwarf's layers of armor and clothing. Bilbo's body had gone from wariness to want with just the hint of arousal from his mate. Oh, he was so easy. He closed his eyes, inhaling Dori's oranges and smoke that had pulled at his senses the minute the Dwarf had walked through his green door.

Dori's warm, wet mouth worked its way down along Bilbo's neck, his throat, nibbled at the edge of his ear. His territorial aggression sent Bilbo's already stoked libido into the sky. "Mmm," Bilbo responded as Dori nipped at Bilbo's ear, biting gently, then sucking the lobe. Bilbo's cock jumped to attention, fully hard and eager. He nudged his erection against Dori's leg in slow strokes. 

As eager as his lips, Dori's hands weren't idle. Deftly, he untied Bilbo's trousers. Thick fingers teased Bilbo's cock. Bilbo gasped, bit his lip. A breath ghosted Bilbo's ear: "Bilbo, touch me." 

Bilbo obeyed. 

He slid his hands under Dori's clothing, caressing his hot skin, every inch of it he could reach. Dori released Bilbo to yank off his armor, then his shirt while Bilbo tried to help. Fumbling, cursing himself for this frantic shake that settled in his hands, Bilbo undid the ties on Dori's trousers and nearly drooled at the sight of his mate's cock.

Bilbo stooped over and swallowed his Omega down.

A low, trembling cry ripped itself from Dori's throat, filling the room with the sound of agonized pleasure and the pounding of blood in Bilbo's head. Dori dug his fingers into Bilbo's hair, causing him to shiver with the the hint of pain. Bilbo's tongue pressed along Dori's shaft, feeling the lines of veins under his heated skin. Dori tasted salty and bitter with a hint of that same oak that wrapped around everything Dori was. Bilbo grasped onto Dori's base and squeezed, just a bit, as he bobbed up and down along Dori's long cock.

“Bilbo, oh Mahal... you're mouth... so... Oh...” Dori held on tight and Bilbo could tell the larger male was struggling not to thrust down Bilbo's throat. 

Bilbo felt the thick rounded head bump the back of his throat and gagged. “Oh, sorry.” He wiped at his mouth, looking up at his beautifully devastated Dwarf.

"Bilbo. Bilbo," Dori moaned, his fingers running through Bilbo's hair, slipping down his back and anchoring onto Bilbo's hips. Dori walked backwards, dragging Bilbo with him as his own trousers slipped past his rear, and when Dori hit the wall, he slid down and yanked their groins together. Oh good gracious—the sound of Dori's delight. It burned into Bilbo's senses. Drove him. 

Shirtless, Dori's chest was at Bilbo's mercy. He kissed along Dori's neck, running his tongue across heated skin and then sucked, leaving a trail of bruises, marking the gorgeous male as his, as taken. Making him Bilbo's. He needed to brand him, slather him in scent. Oh, Bilbo anticipated. Bilbo wanted. 

Another groan, such a deep noise it must have been welled from Dori's very center. "You are mine," Dori practically growled and wrapped his hand around both of their erections.

Bilbo couldn't breathe. Didn't want to wait for breath, he just held on to Dori as he pumped his hips, a firm grip encasing their erections as the glide of skin on skin unhitched Bilbo's mind.

Bilbo couldn't stop the sympathetic jerking of his own hips, instinct and frantic need disallowing any stillness, but he refused to let go of Dori in anyway. Dori clung to Bilbo, his hips jerking wildly. "Oh, mine. You're mine," he kept saying, as if there was any doubt. Dori jerked his hips sharply. Bilbo wasn't sure he'd ever seen Dori this gone, this feral in his need, except for during his heat, and that was a completely different madness. Dori's skin burned. His breath was shallow. He looked lost, almost, and Bilbo snaked his free arm tighter around his Omega. "I've got you," he said between kisses. "I've got you."

"Don't let go." 

"Never."

Bilbo scrambled for this combined cocks and brought the palm of his hand over the head of Dori's erection. He wanted to lay with is mate, penetrate him, or vise versa, Bilbo was versatile, but there was just no time, no breath to stop the avalanche. Dori was ready to fall, dive into the abyss, and he whispered, "Bilbo," just his name, but a benediction, and Dori's body stiffened as hot semen coated Bilbo's palm one step before Bilbo's own release.

Silver brilliance flashed through his body, from the base of his cock, up his spine, to the pleasure centers of his brain. Pure bliss that left him dizzy and dependent upon Dori to hold him up. 

Hot seed dripped onto the bunched mess of his trousers around his knees and more coated his hand. Bilbo didn't care. He'd bitten his tongue and he still didn't care! When he noticed the scattered bruising all over Dori's chest, he tried to catch his breath. Air was evasive, then he gulped a lungful. Then another. He could hear Dori saying something, muttering a fluid string of Khuzdul, his name the only recognizable word in there.

Bilbo leaned against his Omega and licked along his chest, slow gentle caresses with his tongue, trying to sooth the sting. Dori carded his fingers through Bilbo's hair. “Almost long enough to braid,” he said.

Bilbo hmmed, and then began to lick his hand clean, tasting Dori and himself, the flavor sparking something dominant and possessive in his mind. Dori was his mate, and he was Dori's. These other Omegas had no place in their family with Thorin. He'd never realized how completely his Omegas owned him until another threatened their connection, still young and new, still not wholly bound. 

Bilbo leaned back to feast upon the beauty of Dori, mostly naked, leaning against the wall, hair a little mussed where Bilbo had evidently clutched at it. But the beautiful oragasm-bliss was marred by something tired and edgy. 

“I want to leave this place.” Dori sighed. “I am sick of the stink.”

~~~

Butterslip without his Alpha Transformation was not that impressive. The Alpha Wieselkin's shoulders, larger than the other 'kins, hunched over like a defeated warrior and a depressed air clung to him like a dust cloud on a wild boar. Thorin couldn't hold much respect for the 'kin though he tried to due to Butterslip's station as a representative dignitary of another people. 

They'd spoke at length about the Omegas and every time Butterslip thought Bilbo would take them away, he would slip into a pitiable depression. 

“But he will not,” Thorin said for the fifth time. He was beginning to wonder if the other was stupid, dense, or screwing with him. A stout drink would have helped this insufferable conversation along. “I am his Omega and he will have nothing to do with yours. You don't want any other Omegas than yours do you?”

Butterslip sneered at Thorin, looking him up and down with a kind of disdain Thorin hadn't been subject to since he'd been outcast amongst the cities of Men, and even then it wasn't quite to the same level of distaste. “Certainly not, especially one of the Dwarf kind.”

Years ago, or perhaps it was merely months ago, before he'd found Bilbo—or rightly, Bilbo had found him—Thorin might have been offended. But instead he laughed, feeling a slice of relief that he wouldn't have to beat away this imbecile. Still, talking to this rat had frayed Thorin's last patient nerve. 

“Do not worry, _Butterslip_ ,” Thorin said, voice laced with reminders of the 'kin's lack of status, “no Dwarf would have you either.”

Then Thorin turned the conversation to face the one other thing that interested Thorin beyond the state of the Omegas under this Alpha's care, and that was the statue in the center of their commons. “Why is that Alpha, Jurisa, on a dragon?”

Butterslip puffed up like a tiny cockerel, his scent rancid. “Lord Jurisa slew the lizard to gain these warrens. No greater Lord has ever existed. Nobody of your stone-brained people could compare to his Lordship, may he watch us.”

That nerve snapped. Thorin stood, towering over the other male still sitting in a chair. “I am of the line of Durin, king of my people. A Lord above anything you filthy vermin could ever claim. My Company of thirteen has defeated your entire warren, your weak and useless soldiers. Your ignoble use of poisons proves your treacherous nature that lacks any pride or valor. You are offal. You are garbage—” Flecks of spittle splattered over Butterslip's muzzle and he flinched away. “Your fate is in _my_ hands.” At this Thorin bared his teeth in a smile, and he knew by the dawning expression on the 'kin's face and the shift in scent, Butterslip finally got it.

Thorin thudded back down into his chair, feeling a sickly glee as the Alpha drew himself into a smaller form. “Now, tell me the story.”

Butterslip petulantly glared at Thorin. “I don't know why it matters to you--”

“I asked nicely. Do you want me to ask not nicely.”

The 'kin shifted in his chair and bared his brown teeth. “Fine. In the seventh era, Lord Jurisa came from the south, looking for new lands.”

Thorin wondered if they'd fouled their old ones, but kept his tongue.

“He had fifty and fifty and fifty of his people with him as they wandered the lands east of the great peaks. When they found the great forest, they knew it to be good and settled.”

Butterslip's diffidence slipped away as he grew into his storytelling. “The warrens under the Lord grew far and wide, throughout the great forest. More clans came, and together they developed a people to rule Middle-earth.”

Thorin kept his snort to himself. He'd never even heard of Wieselkin before, and here was a story of them ruling to the far reaches.

“A great lizard lived in the northern part of the forest. Black scales and claws red with blood. He would eat the people as they grew closer and closer to his own warrens. Snatch them up in a bloodied claw, bite them in two and suck them dry. The lizard terrorized Jurisa's people and Jurisa would have it no more.

“He and a group of mighty Wielsekin took up their spears and took up their poisons and marched for the lizard's warrens. In one bite, the black menace ate a third of the warriors. In another bite, another third. Jurisa leapt for the lizard and sank his spear in deep, releasing the poison into the monster's neck and killing him.”

Thorin was paying attention now.

“The lizard's warrens are farther north from here, but these that we live in now are said to be of that make, of the seventh era. No other lizard has invaded our lands and we have lived under them for eras without their attack.”

“Only one dragon left,” Thorin said, “And he's stolen my home.”

Butterslip nodded, frowning. “And you wish to conquer us, so we can drive the lizard from your home?”

Anger tore through Thorin. “We would conquer no people!” Everything about this Alpha just ended up pissing him off. “And I doubt you could do a thing against Smaug.”

Butterslip bristled, his Alpha scent of dominance and command making Thorin sick. No Alphas amongst the Dwarves used such scent anymore. It was archaic. “It is our legacy. It is we, the Wieselkin, who defeat such monsters.”

Thorin bared his teeth, holding himself stiff as he ground out, “Fine. Prove it. Defeat our dragon, Butterslip, and these warrens will be yours again. You will prove _yourself_ as Lord of the 'kin, not my mate.”

Butterslip's expression blanked, his scent fading away. Thorin felt his own defensive readiness relax. Then a bright look of hope settled into the 'kin's face making him not so despicable. “Yes, I see your wisdom, Lord of the Dwarves.” Then his features shuttered again into something conniving. “I will take pity upon you and defeat your lizard. And you will take your Alpha from my warrens.”

Thorin nearly choked, instead he turned it into a discreet throat clearing. Ridiculous, one could say, but it wasn't his Dwarves who would be at risk. Thorin nodded once. “You defeat Smaug, Butterslip, and I will assure Bilbo never sets foot in your warrens again.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Butterslip is a problem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. Obviously, I'm not on a schedule anymore. I'm working on a few other writing projects that take priority at this time. Update: this story is not abandoned, but I might not update until early next year.

Chapter 21

It was Balin who finally determined the Omega 'kin, in their own way, wanted to stay with Butterslip. Especially when they were told he would go out and defeat the Dwarves' lizard problem, proving himself to be a true descendant of Lord Jurisa. The ladies never left each others' sides, often escorted by one of the others of their kin. Bilbo refused to go anywhere near them, avoiding whole warren branches if he caught a whiff, not that Dori would allow them in the same room together.

Bombur—a truly gifted Dwaft—was able to make some semblance of dinner with scraps he found in the warrens. Nobody directly asked what was in the meal, though Dori did catch Bilbo studying something resting in the bowl of his spoon. Not too palatable, but they all ate heartily.

Huddled in their little circle, drawn close to each other by their still questionable circumstances, Beorn slurped down some meatless stew and harrumphed at Thorin, the noise very bearlike, whiffing the air. 

Dori frowned, then it dawned on the Dwarf what Beorn was up to. He tensed. Beorn shook his shaggy head. “No baby. You're not breeding,” he said to Thorin.

Thorin laughed and pumped a fist against his armored belly. “Thank Mahal!” Though Kili frowned in dissatisfaction, everyone else joined him, even Bilbo, who seemed genuinely happy that Thorin wasn't saddled with an unwanted pregnancy. Dori patted his own belly, pleased as a tinker about being pregnant. He'd raised his little brother and had always wanted his own family. Now, he would have a Dwobbit and raise it with Bilbo—and possibly Thorin. He imagined a stout, large footed hairy child and grinned. He secretly hoped it had Bilbo's ears.

“Ah, I wanted a little cousin.” Kili pouted. 

Fili bumped Kili's shoulder with his own, whispering, “Me, too.”

“I will continue with you, if you do not mind, Thorin,” Beorn said. “I know I was to only accompany you through this forest, but I find myself unwilling to leave yet.”

Dori glanced between the bearman, his king, and his mate. Bilbo nodded at Thorin. “He should stay with us. He's been a great help.” He smiled up at the huge man, who smiled back down at Bilbo. Dori sighed happily. How things changed.

“You would be welcome. Thank you, Beorn.” Thorin gave him a welcoming nod. Gandalf gazed at the two, putting on one of his generally pleased expressions as he puffed on his pipe.

When morning came, Butterslip joined them soon after they'd finished their mystery breakfast, no easier to identify than dinner had been. A canvas pack hung from his broad—for a Wieselkin—shoulders. Though he smelled of his Omegas, the Alpha grumped at all of them.

"What, no nookie before your big quest?" Bofur teased, causing Butterslip to hiss in his direction.

"He _is_ being tested," Ori said. 

"Yeah, maybe they're unsure of his ability to perform," Nori added. "They need a little Hobbit Alpha to show them the—" Nori oofed as Dori smacked him up the back of his head. "Dori! Ow!"

"Taunt and tease all you want, but leave Bilbo out of this."

Nori rubbed at his head, scowling at Dori. “Sensitive, aren't ya?”

Dori glared at his Omega brother. “One day, you'll find a mate, maybe an Alpha, maybe not, but you'll understand that you don't want others' paws all over her or him!”

Nori stared like a small animal startled by some great predator, then grabbed his middle and started laughing. All the other Dwarves watched on, as dazed by Nori's reaction as Dori. Nori smacked his leg, shaking his head as tears eeked out of the corners of his eyes. Dori shook his head, scanned the others, and caught a hollow expression on Bofur's face. Oh.

“Nori, grow up. Are we all ready then?” Dori asked, changing the subject.

Bifur grumbled something. Gloin nodded, hoisting his pack onto his shoulders. Butterslip simply glared at the lot. 

“Let's leave. I need fresh air,” Bilbo said and began leading them from the Wieselkin warrens down a pathway he'd found yesterday. Dori couldn't wait to be away from these small, smelly tunnels. He was a Dwarf and belonged underground, but even a Dwarf wasn't pleased with just any space below ground. Specially one with weasel musk. They needed solid stone and space, fresh air filtered through their halls. And, he had to admit, a moment of sun once in a while. They'd been underground, walking through these tunnels, for weeks, and Dori was done with it.

And when they Company slipped out from the tunnels under the trees at the edge of Mirkwood, Dori turned his face up towards the sky and smiled.

And then Gandalf, once again took his leave. “Wait for me on the planes at the foot of the mountain, Thorin. I have business.” 

That mysterious wizard always had business. Hadn't he offered to escort them to Erebor, not come and go like a toddler with attention problems?

~~~

Bilbo woke up with an uncomfortable pinch to his tail. He blinked against the dark sky, hearing the snores around him and the faint crackle of the fire. What had awakened him?

Oh yeah. Tail.

He jumped from his blanket where he'd been bookended by his mates. He shook Thorin, then Dori. "Get up. Get ready." Thorin was off the ground, Orcrist in hand by the time Dori sat up properly. "Danger," Bilbo whispered, searching the camp and the edges of darkness surrounding them for a threat.

Besides Oin, who was on watch and sitting by the fire looking entirely unamused, only one other individual was up. Butterslip, also in Alpha transformation, his own tail flicking in agitation as he stared off to the south.

Bilbo trotted over to him, tilted his head in question. Butterslip shook his. Then both Alphas turned to the south. Bilbo whiffed the air.

Something was out there, he could almost taste it. Beorn rumbled up next to him, still in his human skin. "Could be spiders," he said. Bilbo shrugged. Could be anything. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Thorin right behind him and the others breaking camp in haste. Gloin kicked dead the fire, dousing them all into darkness. 

"Bilbo, do you know what it is?" Thorin asked, rubbing his large hand over Bilbo's shoulder. Bilbo soaked up the presence of his Omega and the Dwarf he would call king. The sense of danger wasn't so much that Bilbo felt battle ready, but he did think getting to the trail now would be the best.

Butterslip snapped his head around to find Thorin standing behind them. He bared his teeth and barked at Thorin, "Get back.” A scent of dominance clouding off Butterslip's body. He turned to Bilbo. "Control your Omegas!"

Several things happened at once. An arrow sliced through the air at the same time he whiffed a noseful of Butterslip's Alpha scent. Thorin stepped back one step, then balled up his fist and punched Butterslip in the nose, releasing a torrent of blood.

Bilbo's body was telling Bilbo many things. One, there was some danger somewhere to the south. Two, someone was shooting at them, most likely said danger. Three, another Alpha was scenting the air in challenge to _his own_ Omega. Bilbo's body decided to disengage from his brain and take over.

Bilbo grabbed Butterslip as the other rolled about in the ferns and tossed him through the air, towards the archer. He filled the air with his own dominance, not aimed at his Omega, of course, but at the upstart Alpha. Still, he grabbed Thorin and pulled him along as Bilbo began a loping run towards the east. Thorin twisted his hand around and gripped Bilbo's, together each holding on. The Company followed, and behind them, the enraged Butterslip.

~~~

They didn't get far before Bilbo released Thorin and waited for Dori; he needed both of his mates within sight, which wasn't terrible in the dark, but still not that great. Dori charged for them, minding Ori as the Company raced for safer grounds. Dori slowed to a walk once they met up and the Company continued onward in the dark night.

"Do you know what it is?" Dori asked, his hands gripping the straps of his pack. The rest of the Dwarves listened intently to Bilbo's answer.

"No. But weaselman needs re— reedu—" Bilbo bit his lip and hissed at himself. "Teaching."

"Was an elven arrow," Dwalin said as they exited the forest onto an open prairie that draped down into a stretch of black topped by an endless sky of stars. Dwalin handed Thorin his pack; Thorin took it with a nod. Fili handed Bilbo his own. "Perhaps just a warning shot, but the sylvan Elves are no friends to Durin's folk."

"Wow, would you look at that," Ori said, eyes taking in the dark shroud around them. Bilbo squinted into it.

"Never seen it before, have you lad?" asked Balin, patting Ori on the shoulder. Then he reached out and pointed north, to a black shape that punched the field of stars. The Lonely Mountain.

"Is that it?" Kili asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "The Lonely Mountain?"

"Aye, laddie," Balin nodded with pride. "Erebor. Wait 'til the day."

Bilbo grumbled, “I can't see anything,” but nobody paid him any attention.

Gloin stepped forward. “Home. Oh, I remember the days. It will be good to be back.”

Bilbo pouted, neck strained and eyes spread wide as he tried to see the scene his Dwarven companions could. Thorin wrapped his arm around Bilbo and squeezed. A fierce determination set his eyes; his jaw muscles flexed and unflexed. Thorin wanted this. Bilbo would do anything to give it to him.

“Let's go,” Thorin said. “We can reprovision in that town.” He pointed to a set of lights hovering over a sea of black. A lake? Bilbo shivered at the sight. What a precarious place to make one's home.

Then that scent of weasel Alpha inched up into Bilbo's nose. He gently took Thorin's arm off of his body and turned on the 'kin.

Butterslip stood at the edge of the Company, fists nearly shaking at his sides, eyes burning with hatred. Dirt smeared his clothing. A twig was stuck in his fur. “You are a weak Alpha,” he condemned. “I cannot believe you bested me. I –” he stopped, finally seeming to realize a gathering of Dwarves and one Skin-changer were all glaring at him. He jutted his finger at Thorin, but spoke to Bilbo, “If you don't watch out, he is going to be taken from you.”

Bilbo hissed, his hackles rising. He bunched his legs, ready to leap at Butterslip, but a gentle hand rested on Bilbo's shoulder, stalling him.

“Nobody will take me away from Bilbo, Butterslip. Least of all you. You are here to fulfill a bargain between you and me. You are to defeat my lizard and regain your honor to prove yourself to your own Omegas. Bilbo has already proven himself. He has never fallen in our eyes. He is a far stronger, far smarter, far better Alpha than you. I hope you, one day, could meet his greatness.” Thorin held the Alpha's eyes. He did not back down. Butterslip's body shook and rage scent, dominance scent, oozed off him. 

The scent attacked the Omegas, and even some of the Betas shifted uncomfortably. Dori huffed, arms around his belly as he stepped away. Nori spit at Butterslip, closing in with his brother as the two Omegas nearly cowered. Thorin did not. He kept his gaze on Butterslip. Bilbo wanted to smack the other Alpha. Take him down another notch, especially when he scented Dori's distress. An angry Alpha was subjugating his own Omega. His Omega! Bilbo snarled, but still Thorin did not release him, though his grip grew tighter and tighter. Nori whimpered. 

Then a blaze of a Dwarf tackled the Alpha Wieselkin. The scenting ceased, the evening breeze carrying the stench away. Bilbo inhaled deep, his body discharged his readiness like a loosened coil, and he blinked his eyes to see Bofur atop Butterslip, punching the 'kin in the face. “Stop that. Stop your pissing match and get over yerself! Yer not dominate here, so just stop!”

Bilbo turned to Thorin, and ran his wrist over his mate's cheek, saw the strain in Thorin's face ease. Then he ran to Dori and curled him up in his arms.

“I hate that scent,” Dori said. “I hate it. I feel sick, Bilbo.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” He petted Dori, and was soon joined by Thorin, the three wrapped together in a huddle of support. 

“I'm sorry,” Thorin said, his voice hoarse. “I had to... Bilbo, if you ever scent us with that, I will leave you.”

“No. Never, Thorin. Never. For one, that scent is never used by Hobbits. For another, I never wanted to dominate you.”

“Bofur. I think—Bofur! Come on now.” Bombur had his hands on Bofur's shoulders and was trying to pull his brother off the Wieselkin. Butterslip clawed at Bofur's face, no longer scenting, but also not backing down from a fist fight. Bombur finally got a good grip on Bofur and yanked him away. Butterslip scrambled to his feet, teeth bared, tail slicing through the air.

“You are all backwards. You let your Omegas out and put them in danger. You have no leader. You have no knowledge of your own scents and abuse me when I use them. Dwarves are –”

“Butterslip,” Balin said, cutting him off. “Thorin is our leader. He is our king. We follow him wherever he leads. This is not contested by any.”

Butterslip hunched, claws extended, and hissed at them all. “Fools,” he spat. 

Oin fussed over Bofur a bit, wiping at the bloody scrape on his chin. The medic didn't even appear phased by Butterslip's scent. Oh, to be bonded.

“We move out,” Thorin said. He leaned down and gave Bilbo a kiss, a chaste peck, but still Bilbo purred, smiling up at his Omega when he pulled away. “Bilbo, you are amazing.”

Bilbo perked up, preened a little, but had to ask, “Why?”

Thorin ran his wrist over Bilbo's face. “Because of who you are.”

The gathering turned towards the lights on the lake, Bilbo catching sight of Nori, who stood apart of the others, back turned. Dori glanced at his brother, but before he could go, Bofur walked by, bumped his shoulder into Nori's and said, “Come on, then. Maybe they've got some ale.”

Nori didn't react for a moment, then he snorted, looked up and that same old amused disdain perched on his lips. “Men's ale? I'd not count on it being any good.” They joined the Company and together they walked towards Laketown.

~~~

An entire day passed with endless walking through sharp grasses and still they had not reached the lake. Bilbo earned his view of the Lonely Mountain though, the shear massiveness of the peak taking away his breath. 

By the time the sun began its descent, everyone's feet dragged in exhaustion, though Bilbo practically pranced. His Alpha transformation left him as a simple Hobbit once again. Along their walk, Bilbo spotted batches of berries, and he plucked them with the skill of years of berry picking. With a sharp stick he dug up wild ginger, and found a nest of duck eggs, of which he took two. He was an Alpha with two lovely Omegas that needed his care after all, so he collected food. His vinegar and salt were a long lost casualty of the journey, but that didn't mean he was without any expertise to please his mates. He still had knowledge in cooking, which surpassed everyone's, even Bombur's if he was to be secretly honest with himself.

So, that evening he prepared a special egg dish for his mates. He hummed to himself as he worked over the fire with a pan he borrowed from Bombur, flavoring the eggs with the ginger and some wild onions he found. Arranging the berries on the side as a dessert.

“Ah, he's at it again,” Fili said, a little jealously. “Bilbo, it's only polite to share with everyone.”

Bilbo shifted his gaze to the prince. “There isn't enough.” He then offered Fili an incredibly insincere smile and said, “Maybe next time.”

With a delighted bounce to his step, he went to Dori, who was huddled with Nori discussing something of incredible importance if their eyebrows had anything to say about it. He cleared his throat. Dori looked up, and his face bloomed into delight. “Please Dori, take this treat. I hope you enjoy it.” Bilbo bowed, holding the wooden plates steady as he did so. 

Dori stood and exchanged the plate for a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, my dear Bilbo.”

Bilbo shifted his gaze to Nori, who looked somewhat sullen. He popped up his own eyebrows in question. Dori shook his head, then shrugged, then nodded, which Bilbo took to mean, “It's not big deal, I'm talking to him, he'll be okay.”

Bilbo rose on his tiptoes and kissed Dori again before going off to find Thorin, who was brooding on the edge of their camp facing Erebor.

Bilbo purposefully scuffed his foot to make noise enough to not startle Thorin, but Thorin didn't react, even when Bilbo settled himself next to the large Dwarf on a big worn log. Bilbo set the plate on his own lap and beat his heels against the log's side, admiring the great mountain with his mate.

Finally, Thorin said, “I almost didn't think we'd make it.”

Bilbo set the plate down and grabbed Thorin's hand, pulling it into his lap. “We did. Nearly there. And Butterslip, the little weasel, will deal with Smaug and you're kingdom will be restored. Your people can return. Fili and Kili will find their place in their new home, learn to rule. You will be happy.” He squeezed Thorin's hand and Thorin finally tore his eyes away from his history and his legacy and looked down at Bilbo. He was smiling.

“You think it will all be that easy, my Hobbit?” he asked in a low rumbling voice that petted along Bilbo's spine. Oh. Well, so much for the egg.

Bilbo dropped his own voice and rubbed circles along Thorin's wrist. “I do. For the King Under the Mountain to be seated on his rightful throne is my second greatest desire, and I usually get what I want.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Thorin leaned in, mouth close to Bilbo's ear, breath caressing his sensitive skin. “Oh, my Bilbo. What is your greatest desire?”

Bilbo cleared his throat, a fission of energy zipping along his nerves, a molten river of anticipation. “You, naked, moaning.”

Thorin wrapped his hand around the back of Bilbo's head and brought them together, lips connecting in perfection. Joy sang within every inch of Bilbo's body. Then Thorin pulled away, and Bilbo felt Thorin's moist hot breath kiss along his sensitive flesh. His lips traveled over the skin on Bilbo's throat, then up along his ears. Bilbo bit his lip, then let loose a delighted moan as Thorin nibbled his ear. “I want _you_ under _me_ , naked and moaning.” He pulled away, eyes searching Bilbo's face. “Is that okay?”

Bilbo nodded. Any way. Anytime. His Omegas, he wanted them. He quirked a saucy grin. “Yes. I already told you, I'm versatile.”

Thorin growled, then stood, scooping Bilbo up and walking away from the Company into the cover of darkness. 

As Thorin carried him along, Bilbo began digging under the many layers of dwarven clothing, seeking out the warm planes of skin, all muscles and scars covered in his thatch of dwarven hair. His lips quested over Thorin's neck and cheek, and he buried his nose into the hollow behind Thorin's ear, inhaling, sucking in the flavors of his Omega in readiness, his Omega in arousal. Oh sweet Yavanna.

Thorin set Bilbo down, then pulled off his jacket and spread it over the golden grasses, his own possessive sounds suggesting he would take little coaxing, little foreplay to be ready. Bilbo had waited for this. They'd had one mating, one, and Bilbo certainly felt ready to taste of his Omega again, bond with him through his physical act, claim and be claimed. 

Thorin pulled back and chuckled. He ran his thumb along Bilbo's cheek. “You've gone red.”

That startled Bilbo. “What? Really?” The two sat on Thorin's jacket, Bilbo patting his own cheeks. He did feel warm. “Like, when I go into Alpha transformation, or into rut? That kind of color?”

Thorin nodded, again tracing the slashes of color with his fingers. “Like when you're in rut. You're peacocking, you called it.”

“Oh... hmm. That's unexpected... I think.” Was he going into rut on his own? Or did he just peacock with his mates in general now? He wasn't about to let his concern tangle up his thoughts, though. Nothing to be done about it, so he launched himself at Thorin, throwing his arms around his mate and kissing him deeply.

Thorin's big hands curled around Bilbo's middle, then slid down to the waist of his trousers, the fingers working at the ties. Bilbo worked his own magic on Thorin's brigandine, then he had another layer, and another. “Oh, be bother it all. You Dwarves and your clothing.” Finally he got Thorin topless, while he, himself, was nearly nude, his trousers around his knees and only his smalls giving him any decency. Though with his erection jutting beyond the waistband like that, decent wasn't the word a proper Hobbit would use.

Thorin's stomach muscles twitched as Bilbo trailed his fingers over the scarred skin. They quested slow and steady, tracing along white lines of history over his Dwarf's flesh. “Can I—” Bilbo yanked at Thorin's trousers, “—take these off.”

Thorin smirked, his eyes dark and hooded, then leaned back on his elbows, laying himself out for Bilbo's pleasure. 

Bilbo eeped in delight, then dove at the ties on his mate's boots, realizing those monstrosities had to go first. Shoes, what a crazy necessity. Taking more time than he'd like, they were defeated and with hands shaking in anticipation, Bilbo worked on Thorin's trousers. He wanted to lay his palms on Thorin, every inch of him, take his time like he didn't have the pleasure to do when they'd mated in the Wieselkin pit. With eager hands, he gripped Thorin's trousers and pulled them, and his smalls, down over his hips and off his feet.

Bilbo was torn between the intense desire to stare and study and eat up his mate with his eyes, and the need to lean down and taste and lick along that full spread of Thorin. Like a grand feast, his mate lay beautifully below him. Bilbo whimpered, unsure, and then Thorin reached out and pulled Bilbo to him, his name a sigh on his mate's lips.

“It's okay, Bilbo. We'll take it slow. I've wanted to lay with you, take my time with you. We have no rush.”

Bilbo snorted at that. “If we had a room and a bed, we'd have no rush. But...” he scanned the dark open fields around them, the moon's illumination painting the grasses in silver light. “Here...?”

Thorin chuckled, and again that deep chocolate heat in his voice infiltrated Bilbo through his very pores. The spicy scent of cinnamon sent a shiver over Bilbo's whole frame. “Well, perhaps in that town, we can have our bed,” Thorin said.

Bilbo hoped.

In the dim light, Bilbo barley caught Thorin's grin broadening, then Thorin leaned forward and gently claimed Bilbo's lips. The kiss, an introductory tangle of tongues, quickly turned to an expression of passion. Though they had kissed very little, Thorin felt right in Bilbo's arms, his mouth a welcome harbor, his tongue a long-loved friend. And the scents coming from Thorin sent Bilbo's senses into a dizzy spin. Cinnamon, oak, passion and claiming. Thorin scented the air with his claim of Bilbo, and wasn't that enough to send a Hobbit Alpha into delighted arousal. 

Without any embarrassment, Bilbo scrambled from his smalls, letting his hardened penis brush along Thorin's thigh. He squirmed, aligned their bodies and felt their erections meet. 

“Lovely,” Bilbo choked out, his hips jerking short, shallow thrusts against Thorin's own receptive beat. 

Thorin ran his hands down Bilbo's back, along his spine until they cupped his butt, squeezing his cheeks, rubbing along them as Bilbo continued the kiss, continued the cadenced pace of his hips. He squirmed, pushing his rear into Thorin's hands, assuring his mate that such an approach was pleasing to him. In fact, his spiraled his blood to boil. Bilbo scented the air, a ting of sharp rut to it, and released his urgent grasp on Thorin's arms to sneak his hands between their bodies to take up both erections in his grip, needing two hands to fist their combined girths. 

Thorin hmmed in delight, his hips jerking in response to the friction.

“Have you any slick?” Bilbo panted, wiggling his rear again.

Thorin grumbled, his body going stiff. He groaned out, “Oh Mahal. I feel like a Dwarfling. Dori!”

Bilbo eeped, not quite ready to call for Dori, or for anyone to see his bare ass mooning the moon.

In the span of ten heartbeats Dori, nearby, teased, “Thorin, Bilbo, did you need something?”

Bilbo looked up from where he'd buried his face into Thorin's chest. Dori stood there, amusement glinting in his eyes. He whiffed the air, his own gaze going glassy as he held out a little jar. “Bombur's cooking oil. That's all I could find.”

“That'll do,” Thorin said, though he looked at Bilbo for confirmation. 

Bilbo hopped off Thorin to gather up the cooking oil. His erection bobbed between his legs and Dori waggled his eyebrows as he stared at it. “Anything else?” he asked. And Bilbo wanted to reach out, pull Dori into their mix, but this was Thorin's request, not his. He'd have them both... he hoped, someday.

Still, he reached out and grabbed Dori by his beard, gently pulling him down for a kiss. Dori returned it, letting his tongue brush along Bilbo's lips, hmming in enjoyment. Then he pulled away and winked at Thorin. “Enjoy,” he said and walked back to the crackling fireside.

“What'er they doing?” Kili asked, following by an almost immediate oomph. “Oh. Ew!”

Bilbo laughed and returned to Thorin, who still sprawled across the great coat and a circle of flattened golden grasses, his body on full display in the moonlight, his fingers stroking his endowment. And what an endowment it was.

“I think you'll need to take great care with me, Thorin,” he gestured with his chin, “if you want that monster inside me.”

Bilbo grinned at the immediate reaction of Thorin's pride. “Of course, my Alpha. Come, let me take my care.”

Heat pooled at the base of his spine as Bilbo stalked Thorin, one foot in front of the other, slow and deliberate. Thorin's eyes latched onto him, a predator watching his prey, cataloged each and every shift of hip, tension of muscle, swing of his arm. Bilbo preened, displaying himself for this very delectable male. His male. His mate. Bilbo's cock pulsed at the thought and he finally reached Thorin after his long trek across empty space and lowered himself into his lover's arms. 

Bilbo buried his nose at the base of Thorin's neck, licking along the sensitive spot there. Thorin's arms encircled him, held tight. A noise, barely audible, vibrated from Thorin's chest into his own. Bilbo licked again, sucked at the spot and that barely there noise burst into a groan so deep, so overwhelming, Bilbo nearly bit. His salivary glands ached. “Thorin,” he whined, the name needy, his voice desperate. But he couldn't. Not now. A bonding bite wouldn't even work now, but even so, he would wait. Wait 'till he was with both of his mates.

Thorin lifted Bilbo and set him on the soft lining of the coat, leaning over him. “Bilbo.” He nuzzled Bilbo's neck, licked the bonding spot. “I want to...” It sounded like an admission.

“Good,” Bilbo said, running his fingers through Thorin's thick hair. “We will. All three of us, yes?”

Thorin nodded, then pushed himself up. It was dark so Bilbo could not see the finer details of Thorin's face, but he did see joy there. And love. And Bilbo squirmed below his Omega, opening his legs, raising his eyebrows in a kind of challenge that said, “Well, are we going to do this?”

Thorin laughed and kissed him again, then picked up the jar of oil and drizzled some in the hollow of Bilbo's belly button. Bilbo's belly spasmed as the cool liquid pooled on his skin, his body heat warming it up before Thorin rolled his forefinger through the pool.

“Ready?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo almost yelled, “Oh do get on with it,” but instead nodded. 

Bilbo's legs jerked when he felt the first tentative probing, but he shook his head to assure Thorin he was okay. Thorin nodded and pressed his lips to Bilbo's as his finger circled Bilbo's entrance. Bilbo forced himself to relax. While he certainly wasn't an innocent in such bedplay, he'd never been with someone the size of a Hobbit in rut or a Dwarf and it had been quite a few years.

Thorin took gentle care and time, which Bilbo appreciated, before Bilbo felt the intrusion of a very large Dwarf finger. Bilbo bit down on his lip, relaxed his body as Thorin massaged his entrance, pushed in a little, retreated, massaged some more. Soon, Bilbo sighed instead of whimpered, the intrusion no more painful than the current bite he had on his tongue, trying to hold back groans. He knew his body should be able to accommodate the girth of a Dwarf. By all that was green, he knew Hobbit males who'd taken other males in rut.

And then Thorin slipped in. With what felt like little effort, Thorin coaxed Bilbo open with one coated finger. Bilbo watched Thorin's shadowed face, his bitten lip, his wide eyes, then Bilbo felt Thorin slip deeper and his Omega's mouth popped open in an, “Ahh.”

Thorin withdrew to Bilbo's mild protest, his eyes never leaving Bilbo's entrance as he coated his finger again from the diminishing pool on Bilbo's belly and pushed back inside to the escort of a deep groan.

“Am I hurting you?” Thorin rumbled and Bilbo shook his head, widening his legs. Thorin looked up at that, his face almost slacked with awe, then it split into a smile. Bilbo wasn't sure what Thorin saw in his face to make him smile like that, but it was a good look on his mate.

He returned to his work and in no time a second finger pressed into Bilbo, the tight intrusion sending sparks along his rear, up his legs and back. With a wiggle, he shifted his hips, tilting them forward and Thorin eased deeper. Khuzdul rippled from Thorin's lips, the heavy words carrying desire and praise. 

Bilbo clutched at the coat underneath him as Thorin crooked his fingers and hit his node of pleasure. No amount of discipline could hold back Bilbo's startled gasp. Fiddlesticks, he wasn't going to last. He needed Thorin in him.

“Now,” Bilbo whispered hoarsely, shifting his hips.

Thorin shook his head. “Soon,” he said in his own devastated voice.

Two fingers turned to three and Bilbo's body vibrated. He wrapped his heels around Thorin's torso, wanting to pull him closer, pull in him. Thorin thrust his three fingers deeply into Bilbo, drawing out a low keen, his fingers hitting him right on the spot, then spreading and widening. Bilbo thrashed his head, swallowing down his pitiful needy noises, simultaneously caring and not caring for their camp nearby. 

A fine sheen of sweat glistened on Thorin's face, caught by the moonlight. Bilbo wanted to lean up and kiss him, taste him, pour into Thorin his love and desperate need so he'd get this business to the good part. Not that this wasn't good, but by all that was green!

“Thorin,” he whined, and reached for his lover.

Thorin tore his eyes from where his fingers worked Bilbo's entrance. He searched Bilbo's face. “I don't want to hurt you.”

Bilbo tossed his head. “You won't. I... now. I...” He swallowed, tried to collect his words, but he only looked up at Thorin and tried to show him how ready he was. Biting his lip, he hoisted his hips and swirled them around, feeling Thorin's fingers shift and press within him. Bilbo threw his head back, a sharp bark as he wrangled his orgasm from the edge. He would not come until Thorin was inside. Would not come until… Would not…

Scent choked the air. "Thorin."

"Oh, _Ghivashel_." Thorin tore his fingers from Bilbo's body and scooped up the last of the oil, scraping his blunt nails over Bilbo's belly. He grabbed himself, rubbing the oil over his red-flushed skin, then rolled back, holding Bilbo to his chest until Bilbo sat astride the reclining Dwarf. Thorin held onto Bilbo's hips tightly, a guiding force.

Bilbo's curiosity peeked out at the position change, but as he lowered himself onto his Dwarf's greased cock, questions took up less acreage in his mind. Bilbo braced himself, one hand on either of Thorin's shoulders and carefully split himself on Thorin's stone-hard shaft. 

Thorin's fingertips dug into Bilbo's flesh, his head back, mouth open in a silent scream. Bilbo's body felt plundered, and this was just the initial invasion. Thorin was deep, so deep, pressing against Bilbo's pleasure button inside. Bilbo was not going to last.

He lifted himself up off Thorin, keeping just the head of his mate's cock inside, then slowly slid down again, watching as Thorin's mouth soundlessly worked around a litany of words. Scent swirled around them, of passion, strawberries and ripe melon, cinnamon and wet stone, and rut. Heat swam through Bilbo's senses as he sped up his valiant ride upon Thorin's shaft.

Bilbo whined and squirmed as he worked Thorin into him, his whimpers coming deeper and more demanding at each little thrust. The pressure inside him moved, tingling heat surging along his groin, through his bum and lower back, the ring of muscles twitching around Thorin's girth. Bilbo closed his eyes, his mouth dropping open so he could take in more air as he rode his Omega.

"So good," Thorin moaned out. "You feel—so good, like silk inside, Bilbo…. Silk."

Bilbo squeezed around Thorin, earning a gasp and Thorin picked up his pace, Bilbo softly grunting at the impact of Thorin's long erection thrusting into him. Bilbo's pants increased, catching up to Thorin's rhythm. 

Bilbo came on an up-thrust, completely untouched, his legs going noodle soft as streams of semen plastered Thorin's chest. Thorin flipped them over, his pace picking up as he pounded into Bilbo, long, deep, desperate strokes. Bilbo's body quaked and clenched as the pleasure coursed through him, squeezing around Thorin, pulling a groan and a rapid stutter of hips as Thorin poured into him. 

Quakes wracked Thorin's body, his arms shaking where he kept himself off Bilbo's body. Bilbo stared into his face, a certainly goofy smile plastered on his own. Thorin smiled back, a blissed out, delighted smile and collapsed on his side, arm and leg sprawled over Bilbo. Thorin kissed Bilbo's nose, nuzzled his cheeks, pressed his forehead to Bilbo's.

"Hmm, well that was nice," Bilbo said, kissing Thorin's nose.

"Nice?" Thorin asked, eyes half-closed, lips quirking at the edges.

Bilbo hummed in thought. "Oh yes, quite nice." He held in a chuckle, then wiggled closer into Thorin's hold, feeling his mate's juices slip from his ass. 

"Better than nice," Thorin mumbled, eyes closed now, breathing leveling out.

"Lovely," Bilbo said, closing his own eyes. They'd have to move soon. The air held too much of a fall chill, but Bilbo couldn't find the energy. "Love you," he said, kissing Thorin's chest.

"I love you, _Ghivashel_. My mate."

~~~

When they did return to camp, chilled to the bone but cleaned up in the river, nobody paid them much attention. Well, nobody but Butterslip.

"I can'nt believe." The Wieselkin threw his hand into the air, baring his teeth. "You. You are _no_ Alpha. You are lesser, like one of your Betas. A neutered male. Without any pride—"

"What is he going off about now?" Bilbo asked, uncomfortable aching settling into his muscles as the other Alpha ranted at him. Bifur, Bilbo noticed, was settled between his two cousins and Kili was nearly sat on by his brother. Balin, however, reclined on his bedroll, ignoring the lot of them. He did always have the most control. "Should I let the other Alphas at you, Butterslip?"

Butterslip hissed at Bilbo, more scent coming off him.

"You let your Omega take you! You let him penetrate you. You spineless weak Beta."

Nori, this time, punched the Alpha in the face. Bilbo wondered of the 'kin's nose could hold up to this earned abuse. Butterslip slammed to the ground. "Shut your mouth, you weasel," Nori growled out through bared teeth. "Our Betas. Our Omegas, and even the fucking Alphas are better than you." Nori spat on the Alpha, turned and sat near Bofur glaring at the tableau near the fire. 

How Butterslip even knew the exact positions he and Thorin enjoyed was a mystery, but not the main problem. The main problem, Bilbo realized, was that Butterslip had seeded the camp with an odd scent Bilbo hadn't encountered before and right then he wanted nothing more than to challenge. To fight. To make the little weasel cower.

And, if he was to be honest with himself, which Bilbo always tried to be, with every Alpha there.


End file.
